Snowdin Family (Undertale HumanMobtale Fanfic)
by TaiylorWallace
Summary: Since taking over when he was nineteen, Don Garrett R. Sans has run Snowdin's underground gambling and smuggling ring with confidence and finesse and few interruptions. By his side are his brother, a group of his top bodyguards and Family leaders, and his right-hand and consigliere, Katherine 'Kitten' Frisk. Mobtale & Humantale are fan-made AUs based on Undertale by Toby Fox.
1. Outside Threats Pt1

Days off were not a common occurrence for the members of the Snowdin Family, especially not during the summer when the activity in the streets was high. Snowdin rarely fought with the other established families, but they all had to contend with small upstarts, thieves, and rogues that, in any organized group, could be dangerous and bad for business.

This particular day, the Snowdin Family leader had decided to take his closest people out to lunch. Surrounded on all sides by his six top men and consigliere, Don Garrett R. Sans stepped out into the sunlight and placed his Homburg hat tilted forward on his head to block the bright rays. Considered fairly handsome by most, the Don was most recognizable by the long scars on his face and his missing eye, and he had been at the head of Snowdin Family since he'd put a bullet between the eyes of his predecessor twenty years prior with the entire family at his back supporting a change of power. Now thirty-nine, Don G was watching over a comfortable period of mostly-peaceful business dealing in smuggling and operating an underground gambling ring.

"Hm… what do you all say to dessert? My treat, of course," the Don spoke up, taking a pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket and a matchbook.

"An ice cream date, eh, boss?" The massive, blonde-haired powerhouse behind him chuckled. Grey, along with his two brothers Les and Wolfe who were there with them, were three of G's longest-standing men who had supported him in his takeover of Snowdin. All three had taken knives or bullets for him at some point, and G had done the same for all of them at least once.

"Well, we already had a romantic lunch date, Grey. Might as well have a sweet ending." That earned laughs from each of his close-knit group save his always-quiet consigliere who was distracted with a notepad. She was working constantly, and not because she had to, but because G knew she was just a workaholic and a perfectionist. The best way to get her attention, G often found, was to simply take her work away. Plucking the notepad out of her hands, G gave her a half-smile and tucked the pad away into his vest before striking a match and lighting a cigarette. "Join the land of the living, Kitten."

With a long sigh, the young woman glanced at the Don and followed at his side as he led the way down the sidewalk. Les and Grey chattered while G's two smuggling aficionados, a couple named Rissa and Jeremy, walked happily hand-in-hand. Brando, who they all called Doggo, was trailing a bit behind with Wolfe, the two constant (and G believed, romantic) partners always guiding one another as Doggo was nearly blind and Wolfe wasn't good with people. Everyone in the family had had a 'partner' except for G until Kitten appeared some years ago when she was a hotheaded, fourteen-year old mystery girl. Seven years under the Don's tutelage and protection had turned her into a straight-faced, incredibly dangerous advisor. Being the only person who knew almost every secret the Don had, he kept her close as she could be as much a target as himself, though she could destroy any threat to either of them if given the chance.

Coming upon a small line up to the little ice cream stall on the corner, G pulled out his wallet and gave a large bill to Les. "Take everyone up and let them get whatever they like."

"Anything for you, boss?" Les asked, folding the bill and pressing it into his vest pocket for the time being.

"Hm… just a sundae. Kitten?"

"I'm fine," she answered quietly from her usual place just beyond G's right shoulder.

"If she wants any, she can share mine," G sighed, patting Les's shoulder before he turned to join the line with the others.

Turning to Kitten, G raised an eyebrow over his missing eye. "You've been quieter than usual."

"I should be working," she muttered, brushing a strand of her long, dark brown hair behind one ear. She wasn't bad to look at, as many people mentioned only to lose a few teeth shortly after. With light tan skin and dark brown hair and eyes and a slender but strong frame, she never wore makeup beyond a touch of foundation and eyeliner just to look professional, and she was always well-dressed like most family members in dark slacks, leather shoes, and a white dress shirt. They all normally wore vests and jackets too, but it was too warm out for all those layers.

"You haven't taken a day off in over a year. And neither have I. Just relax and enjoy it," G insisted calmly, glancing over to Wolfe as he caught Doggo's shirt sleeve before he could trip over a discarded box near a building at the corner. "None of the boys have been off since spring either. And it's always good to go out, just my best and me, and enjoy doing and talking about normal things."

"Normal?" Kitten asked with a sideways glance at G.

"Things like… Les and his wife expecting a baby, Grey getting engaged… I'm still waiting on Doggo and Wolfe to tell us that they're getting married."

"Wolfe hasn't gotten up the courage to ask yet," Kitten muttered.

"Our fearless Wolfe is afraid of asking a question that Doggo will obviously say yes to?"

"Mhm."

"Heh. I'll have to tease him about it later." G took a long drag from his cigarette then, noticing Kitten glancing around secretly. "Relax. The area's clear today."

"So says Papyrus."

"So says our best lookout and all of his sources," G corrected her. "It's my little brother, Kitten. He takes my safety as seriously as you do, but with a lot more smiling."

"You can hardly blame me after all the threats leveled at you and the other Dons lately."

"I don't blame you. I just wish you'd trust Papyrus. He's the best at his job and he doesn't let anyone work with him that he has even the slightest doubt about."

"I don't trust anyone that much, G. Not even you," Kitten murmured, crossing her arms as she watched Les speak to the man selling ice cream.

"I know you don't, and I appreciate it even if it gets annoying when you find out I'm lying."

"It's because you lie to spare my worry, and you only make me worry even more."

"Aw, you worry about me?" G asked with a chuckle and a smile to the young woman.

"I worry about how the hell this family would recover if you got yourself killed," she grumbled, and G wrapped an arm about her shoulders with a deep laugh.

"You know what? I'll take it."

"Here you go, boss," Les spoke up as he came trotting back to G with the little plastic bowl of ice cream and fudge and peanuts. Looking at Kitten, he hesitated to speak to her. "And uh…I… I got an extra spoon… if you want, Miss K." Les offered her the plastic spoon and she sighed, taking it with a quiet 'thank-you.' Except for Wolfe, Grey, Doggo, and Rissa, the entire family tended to avoid talking to Kitten about anything 'unimportant' and they always promptly answered her whenever spoken to. She had no qualms about beating respect into anyone, even though G often told people she was a pacifist.

Les left them to step over to Grey, who had both their ice cream cones. Kitten glanced over at G's sundae as he took a bite, and she sighed before reaching over to take a spoonful as well. G decided not to comment and tease her. Even something as simple as sharing ice cream was too personal for Kitten, and she had always been far too professional and stiff for her own good. It meant she got things done and done well, but it also meant that her closest relationship was with G as his secretary and consigliere.

...

About an hour later, G unlocked the door to his office and stepped inside with Kitten close behind. He opened up the window and turned on his desk fan to get fresh, cool air flowing. He didn't mind when Kitten took his hat from his head and picked up his jacket to hang them on a stand in the corner. He did, however, take notice when she returned to his side and fished around the inside of his vest to retrieve her notepad.

"If you wanted to feel me up, you could've just asked," G muttered with a half-grin.

"Hardly, old man." Straight-faced, Kitten settled in her usual seat on the opposite side of his desk, picking up a pen to begin jotting down notes for later.

"I thought I told you it was our day off."

"You did. But just because you're all being lazy doesn't mean business won't continue as usual tomorrow. I have a lot of paperwork to finish up tonight."

"No, you don't. You'll do it tomorrow."

"G," Kitten glanced up, her eyes warning him that she couldn't just leave that work for later.

"Kitten, I'm serious," G reached across and snatched the notepad away once more. "You're going to come with me and play cards with the boys tonight, rather than drowning yourself in work as per usual. Capiche?"

"I don't gamble, Don."

"We're not using real money. Instead, the losers are going to split the cost of lunch for the main office next Friday. The winner gets fifty dollars cash from me."

Kitten sighed deeply, sitting back in the chair. "Fine. But I swear if you interrupt my work tomorrow-"

"I won't unless I absolutely have to, I promise," G made a cross over his heart with a smile, and Kitten rolled her dark eyes. "I'll even make sure there's a cinnamon bun on your desk tomorrow morning. Maybe even your favorite kind from the west end, if you're good tonight." That caught her attention and G's smile widened to see a tiny hint of blush on Kitten's face, embarrassed at how well he knew her and her sweet tooth for Snowdin cinnamon buns.

"You're an ass," she grumbled, and G reached across to lift her chin so she was looking straight at him.

"You enjoy it. And you hate that you enjoy it," he teased softly, and she swatted his hand away.

...

A long night of poker, champagne, and cigars meant a late wakeup for Don G and his close-knit circle. But when he found the main office door unlocked and the smell of fresh coffee wafting from the mini-kitchen behind Kitten's desk he found that a sizable stack of paperwork was already done and ready to be filed in the 'outgoing' box on the desk. The door leading to his own large office was still locked, but a paper bag was hanging from the handle with a logo from the local cafe down the street. G had brought a box of his own from Kitten's favorite pastry shop, the promised cinnamon bun still warm inside.

"Kitten?" He called, setting the pastry box down and shrugging off his jacket. He glanced at the clock to see it was already half-past nine. He was half an hour late, but Kitten was always early no matter what because she was incredibly punctual, and she actually lived on the second floor of the three-story headquarters. G had his own room leading off from his office that he stayed in when things were too dangerous to leave, but his usual residence was a two-story, small house on the north end near the river, and his neighbors were all members of Snowdin Family.

"Coffee?" Kitten called out from the little kitchen.

"No sugar today, please." G unlocked his office door, taking the little paper bag and stepping inside to hang up his hat and jacket. He noticed a letter had been slid under the door, and he picked it up before taking his seat behind his desk. "What's this letter?" He asked as Kitten stepped in, finding the envelope completely unmarked.

"… I don't know," she murmured, setting a cup of coffee with a touch of cream down at the head of his desk. "Here." He offered the letter to her and, taking safety precautions, she turned on his desk lamp and held up the letter to make sure there was nothing untoward inside. While it probably would never happen to Don G, there was one time a few years back that another Don had been sent an envelope with anthrax powder inside. Thankfully no one had gotten sick, but it was a huge scare shortly followed by another assassination attempt in the form of a car bomb.

Finding the envelope unthreatening, Kitten opened it up and checked inside before taking out the single piece of paper, scrawled with a simple message in shaky letters. Before she could read it, G took it back and unfolded it, finding grime and flecks of blood dried on the paper. He knew the handwriting, but it was written as if the sender's hands couldn't stop trembling.

 _Don G,_

 _Don't go home tonight._

 _-U_

"Shit," G growled, giving the letter over to Kitten as he stood up quickly. He had to tell himself that couldn't run off and evacuate his home neighborhood like his gut told him to. He needed Kitten's level head.

With an intense gaze she glanced at the message. "Undyne. But why doesn't this feel right?"

"I'll call Asgore and ask where she is. You check the night watch logs, find out if anyone came in late."

"Done." Kitten turned and hurried out toward the hall while G went to the telephone mounted by the door to his extra bedroom and quickly put a number into the rotary dial.

He waited about twenty seconds before the calm voice of Asgore's secretary answered. "Mr. Dreemurr's office, this is Kelly. May I ask who's calling?"

"Kelly, it's Garrett Sans. I need to talk to Asgore immediately."

"Oh, Don G. I'm sorry but Mr. Dreemurr isn't here right now. You just missed him."

"Then can you tell me where Undyne is?"

"Miss Undyne was admitted to the hospital just a while ago, sir. Mr. Dreemurr wanted to keep it quiet but of course he wouldn't mind you knowing."

"Goddammit… Listen, did anyone deliver a letter to my headquarters last night? Any of your people?"

"Not that I know of, sir. What's happened?"

"I won't say much, but a message with Undyne's usual mark was slid under my door and I need to know if it was really her that put it there."

"I'll try to get ahold of Mr. Dreemurr, sir, and if Miss Undyne is awake and coherent, we'll try to let you know."

"Thank you… Kitten and I should be around."

"Be safe, sir."

G hung the phone back on the hook, feeling suddenly more anxious than ever. He was a patient man, but knowing Undyne was in the hospital and that there was a threat leveled at not just him, but his home, made him pace rapidly in his office waiting for Kitten. By the time she returned, he'd lit up a cigarette to try to relax.

"Undyne was here last night," Kitten confirmed as she stepped in and handed G one of the night watchmen's reports. Undyne had come by with a package for Grey from New Home, the package had been cleared as merchandise, and Undyne had been allowed inside unchecked, leaving ten minutes later. One watchman had noted that she seemed to be limping.

"Son of a bitch, why didn't those idiots stop her if she was hurt?" G growled. "Whatever, I'll deal with them later. She's in the hospital and Asgore's gone to see her. His secretary's going to call back." He turned to get his hat and jacket, and Kitten stepped over to her desk to hit a button on her intercom system, her voice going through to the second floor kitchen where she Grey and his brothers would be drinking coffee this time of morning.

"Les, get the Don's car."

Two seconds later, Les answered back with the panel on the kitchen wall, _"Gotcha, Miss K. Should I bring anyone?"_

"Just Grey. Have Doggo and Wolfe head home and evacuate some of the families that live near the Don's house, just in case. There may be threat. Move your family too. Hotel rooms will be paid for."

 _"Fuck… I got it. We'll meet the Don in the back lot."_

"You're headed to Grillby's?" Kitten asked as G came out adjusting the harness around his shoulders under his jacket where his twin Colt .45s were holstered.

"I need to know who's been skulking around lately," G said through clenched teeth, holding the cigarette while he made sure he had everything he needed.

"Wallet, pen, notebook, guns, glasses?" Kitten asked calmly.

"Check," he answered simply, striding toward the door. "Call over there once you get any information."

"Will do." The door shut behind him and Kitten sighed quietly to herself, her determined gaze turning to his desk through the open door, where the grimy message still lay. If Undyne was warning them, and she was hurt, it was something threatening more than just Snowdin Family.


	2. Infiltrated Pt2

Being trapped at the Family headquarters for three days had left Don G in an awful mood, unable to even step outside. His office felt stuffy despite the cool breeze coming in under the blinds over the window and the fan on his desk. Kitten had insisted he keep the blinds closed just in case, and the curtains on the sliding glass door that led out to the back balcony had been closed as well. Of course his mood hadn't been helped by having dealt with a young hothead the night before. The girl worked with Rissa in smuggling and had let her temper ruin a deal that nearly got Rissa shot. It had left Jeremy fuming to the point that Wolfe had had to drag him away to calm down. G had given the offending girl a stern warning which he was fairly certain she'd blown off, and so he'd made sure to let her know that if there was a next time, no one would get in Jeremy's way.

That fiasco aside, it seemed like nothing wanted to go right that day. G had spilled coffee all over himself almost immediately after getting up for the day, then a call had come in that Les' car had broken down while out on a time-sensitive delivery. At the moment, G was still stewing over a report that there had been a fight in the gambling ring, and it had gotten out of hand. Now several chairs and a whole rack of glassware were broken, but worse was the hit to the den's reputation.

Staring down at a damage report with a narrowed eye, G knew the people responsible would be paying for it, but it was just a big hassle he didn't feel like dealing with at the moment. He glanced at the small grandfather clock in the corner. It was only eleven o'clock. Time was dragging so slowly, stuck there as he was. Finally he pushed his chair out from the desk and went back to his room. He left the door open and flopped down onto the messy sheets and blankets, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl. After a moment, he took a cigarette from his chest pocket and lit one with a match. Taking a long drag, he left the burnt match in an ashtray on the nightstand.

When Undyne had come to in the hospital, she'd told Asgore that some upstarts from Echo in Waterfall had moved to Snowdin, and they'd decided to make themselves known by planting a bomb at Don G's house, rigged to explode an hour after he usually got home. The bomb had gone off prematurely while some of the nearby families were evacuating, and G had nearly lost his temper for the first time in years hearing that flying shrapnel had hurt a couple bystanders. The front of his house was in ruins, the source of the explosion coming from his little study on the second floor. It would have to be demolished after important items were rescued from the wreckage. With the clear threat, despite how amateurish the attempt on G's life was, no one was willing to take any chances in letting G out of HQ.

"Don?" Kitten's voice called from his office as she opened up the double-doors.

"In here, Kitten," he called back lazily, his one eye glancing over as she appeared in the bedroom doorway.

"If you're bored, you could've said so," Kitten murmured, leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed over her chest. Her expression offered a bit of sympathy, but she was always so straight-faced that anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell. "I'm sure we could get some of the boys around and do something."

"They have work to do. Entertaining their boss isn't in the job description."

"Then I suppose that leaves me, doesn't it?" Kitten stepped over to his bedside and knelt, laying her head on her arms beside him.

"It's not in your job description either, Kitten." G turned on his side, laying his head on his arm with a warm smile.

"You know I can't stand you moping around, just as much as you can't stand doing it."

"Alright, then. Entertain me." G gave her a smirk, expecting her to glare at him as per usual. Instead, he was left wide-eyed for a moment when she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, a slender hand coming to run through his short, dark hair. His smile returned and his one eye closed, relaxing into her attention until she drew back to crawl up onto his bed. Her hand pressed against his shoulder, pushing him onto his back while she straddled his waist. Instinctively, one hand rose to her hip while the other brought his cigarette to his lips. Kitten didn't like that much, and plucked it from his fingers.

"I thought I told you to stop smoking," she muttered, grinding the ember out in the tray by the bed.

"Can you blame me for wanting to relax?" He asked softly, a grin etched on his face as her hands settled on his broad chest.

"There are plenty of better options. Especially ones that won't make you taste like an ashtray." She leaned down to capture his lips once more and his now-free hand rose to tangle in her hair. The moment their lips parted, his own pressed to her throat and he unfastened the first few buttons of her shirt

"What would you prefer I taste like?" He whispered against her skin, feeling her shiver ever so slightly.

"What's that drink you like? With the scotch and blood orange?"

"Blood-and-sand." His fingers trailed down her sides and pulled her a little tighter against his middle.

"That was always nice… especially without the cigarette taste." Just as Kitten's fingers loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt, a knock sounded at his office door and suddenly the Don's bad mood came crashing back in.

"Goddammit, can't I get one fucking break?" He cursed under his breath as Kitten slipped from his lap. "I'll get it." With one more kiss, he slid out of bed. Unwilling to fix his tie, he just pulled it off and re-buttoned his shirt, stepping out into the office.

"What?" He demanded as he pulled the double-doors open, looking up just in time to see the barrel of a revolver flash.

 ** _KRACKKKK!_**

The world seemed to slow as G glanced down, wondering if the bullet had missed. But seeing the blood blooming from a hole in his shirt under his ribs, he knew he was in trouble. He couldn't feel anything, but that didn't stop his knees from suddenly quaking. He slid to the floor, letting go of the door handles. He sat back on his knees, slowly looking up just in time for the silver barrel to press to his forehead. He saw a dark suit and a bowler hat, and a bandana covering up his assailant's face. All except for a pair of glinting black eyes.

Don G's eyebrows furrowed, and he glared daggers at the man. G wasn't scared. He knew the look of death, and this bastard didn't have it. But seeing the terror suddenly register in the stranger's eyes, G knew he'd seen death just step up behind his victim.

G didn't even hear the revolver go off behind him, he only saw the gun before him drop to the floor, and the stranger slump down shortly after the splatter of blood, bone, and brains went across the clean wooden floor of Kitten's office. G's shoulders slumped, and he felt as if gravity had just doubled.

"Don," Kitten's voice broke the silence in his head. Her hazy form knelt beside him almost too fast for him to register, and the pain hit him like a freight train when she pressed her hands tightly over the bullet wound. He let out a sharp grunt, doubling over. The world kicked back into normal speed and he raised his own hands to press over hers.

"Fuck," he growled. "Don't… don't turn your back… If he got in, something's… wrong…"

"We have to get out," she muttered, taking the stranger's gun. "Get up, G. Come on." She took his hand and pressed the gun into his palm. Tucking her own back into his holster under her arm, she took his arm over her shoulders and forced him to his feet. He bit back a painful groan at the strain, but he wasn't the sort to let himself be dragged out just because he was hurt.

"I can make it," he told her. "I'm okay…"

"Don't lie to yourself," she murmured, wrapping her arm about his waist both to support him and help keep pressure over the bullet wound. It was slow going, and it was incredibly painful, but she managed to get him down the hall and to the elevator before his knees grew too weak again. Once inside, she let him lean on the inside rail while she closed the door and hit the button for the ground floor. She drew her twin revolvers as the elevator car shuddered to life, and leveled the barrels at the wire door.

She saw their hats first as the car drifted down, and four shots hit four heads and dropped them all. Kitten slid the door open quickly and darted out, barely taking cover behind a box truck in time to avoid a hail of bullets. The distinct echo of a Thompson went around the warehouse and a voice soon followed, "Listen up, lady! Show your hands and you can get out alive! We just want the Don!"

"Come and get me, then!" G roared from the elevator, earning a glare from Kitten as he slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood behind him. His voice sounded so much stronger than he felt, and his hands were beginning to tremble violently.

"Go, boys," they heard a voice mutter. "That's gotta be Kate Frisk over there. Don't get reckless."

G looked over to Kitten, his eyes begging her to get away. If these people knew who she was, she wouldn't receive any mercy even if she did surrender. But of course, G knew this was his Kitten. She'd never give up her gun until it was pried from her cold, dead fingers. She wouldn't give him up either, because he'd never given her up even when it nearly killed him.

Kitten simply glared at him once more, and disappeared from his view. G let his head tilt back against the elevator wall, and his shaky hands rose from his bloody side to take the pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket. He could barely light the match, but once the ember caught, he took a deep drag, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out in a long, shaky exhale. He left the stranger's revolver aside, choosing instead to draw one of his twin Colt .45's. The second .45 and a hidden Colt .25 inside his vest would have to suffice as backup. Taking his extra magazines from the shoulder holsters, he laid them and the other two guns aside in reach for a quick reload or switch.

Leveling the Colt at the open door, G waited. He tried so hard to stop trembling, keeping a hand pressed over his side. He couldn't hear anything but occasional shuffling, but the warehouse echo made it difficult to detect who was where. He knew he wouldn't be able to hear Kitten at all. As long as it was quiet, she was okay. His mind couldn't help wandering to how these thugs had gotten in and how they were controlling the whole building. That meant some of his people were probably dead or wounded, and G cringed at the very thought. There weren't many people in Snowdin Family that he didn't have a personal connection to. Losing any of them would just break his heart, especially with the knowledge that they died because someone was after the Don himself.

A strangled gasp sounded from the opposite end of the warehouse, followed by a dull and heavy thud. G smirked weakly to himself. That was two for his girl now, counting the stranger upstairs. "Nice work, Kitten," he called softly, knowing she'd change positions quickly to avoid the other men catching her.

He heard the scrape of a shoe close to the elevator, and he quickly steadied his gun arm. Two huge, empty hands showed around the edge of the door and G recognized Wolfe's signature fingerless gloves. He lifted the barrel of the gun as Wolfe's serious face poked around the corner, and the huge man slipped inside the elevator to pick up the Don's spare .45 without a sound. He slipped out once more, and once he was far enough away, G knew he had to let Kitten know or she might accidentally attack Wolfe.

"We've got a friend, Kitten. Our favorite heavy hitter," G called out, followed by a sudden choking cough as he felt blood well up in his throat. The blood from his side was bright red, and he realized he'd been hit in the lung. "Get this done quickly, people…" He added, knowing Wolfe might not be the only ally sneaking around the warehouse.

A scuffle erupted near the elevator, out of sight. "You motherfu-" A voice was cut off with a sickening crack, and G saw a dead man fall into the aisle leading from the elevator before he was dragged out of sight by Wolfe's powerful arms.

Over the next few minutes, G heard several similar, short struggles, always ending with his people coming out on top in seconds as was evident by just how quiet it was. The thugs they were facing were certainly not professionals. Wolfe Broadmoore and his brothers and Kitten were the best G had where efficient and silent killers were concerned, but this was impressive even to the Don.

"I've heard seven men go down in here," G called out into the silent warehouse. "If there's anyone left, throw your guns out and let them know where you are, and I can promise you won't die today."

He heard only one gun clatter. "Okay. Okay, I'm near the back ga-" A shot rang through the warehouse and G flinched. That wasn't the sound of any gun his people carried, and they wouldn't give away their positions like that without orders. The thugs had shot one of their own.

"Guns free!" G snarled, and suddenly the warehouse was alive with gunfire. At least four bodies thudded to the floor before it went silent.

"Clear!" Grey called from the far west end.

"Clear, east door!" Les' voice answered.

"Clear, northwest door, but I'm shot!" Wolfe growled painfully.

"Front aisle clear," Kitten called out.

"Any more of ours?" G asked, feeling his stomach turn when a dizzy spell came over him.

"The building's surrounded by our people, but Jeremy should be here!" Les called.

"H-here…" G could barely hear the young man gasp from close by the elevator.

"Near me! He's down!" G felt strength draining away from his limbs, but he didn't care. He holstered his Colt .25 and managed to crawl out into the aisle to find Jeremy pinned to the floor off to the right with a masked thug collapsed on top of him, dead.

"Hey, boss…" Jeremy grunted. "I… I got 'im…"

"You did," G murmured, crawling over to push the dead man off of him. "Damn good work, kid…"

"He knifed me…" Jeremy sighed, lifting a hand to his left hip, and the other to his belly. Blood was practically pouring from his hip, but by the color G could see it wasn't arterial.

"Then I guess Rissa's just going to have to coddle you for a while, eh?" G asked with a smile, forgoing looking after himself to help Jeremy keep pressure on his own wounds.

"Looks like… Miss K's gonna have to do the same for you, Don."

"We'll be sick buddies, Wolfe too…" G's arms were quaking at this point, and the world slowly went black for both men as G crumbled to the floor beside Jeremy. The last thing on their minds was their girls, and how furious they would be.


	3. Interlude Pt3

The morning sunlight was blinding, and Don G let out an annoyed groan as it suddenly fell across his face. His arm felt twice as heavy as ever before as he lifted it to lay over his face. Glancing out from the cracks between his fingers, he realized the sun had peeked up over a distant building. And of course, he'd had the luck to end up in a room with an east-facing window and he always forgot to close the blinds at night after staring at the stars and moon for a while.

Cursing quietly under his breath, he sat up. A dull but painful twinge in his side made him slow down, but soon his bare feet touched the cold, white floor. Rubbing sleep from his one eye, he still kept it shielded while he trudged over to the window and drew the blinds down. A little resistance to his other arm reminded him that there was still an IV in the top of his left hand, and he couldn't go far without the rolling stand that kept the bag of he-couldn't-remember-what suspended. He glanced back at the hospital bed and sighed, his mind slowly waking up and remembering why he was standing there in a stupid hospital gown and his boxers with his arm attached to a tube.

It had been ten days since he'd been shot in the side, the bullet just catching the edge of his left lung. Thankfully it had been quickly repaired and he hadn't drowned in his own blood, and his position had afforded him the best doctors in New Home, whom he'd also directed to care for Wolfe and Jeremy. Wolfe had been allowed to go home after a single night stay, but Jeremy had been stuck there for about seven days with difficulty eating thanks to his stomach having been punctured. He was home now, though, and Rissa was fussing over him more than ever.

Glancing down at the sofa against the side wall, G sighed at the sight of Kitten laying there still fast asleep. Dark circles under her eyes told him she'd stayed up long after their stargazing, probably watching over him and worrying as per usual. He didn't disturb her, returning to the bed and sitting down at the edge quietly. He really wanted a cigarette, more than anything. But there was no smoking in the hospital, and he'd told himself to use the long stay as a start to quitting cigarettes altogether. His only solace was in some caramel hard candies that Toriel had brought him early in the week after Kitten told her that he was having some tobacco withdrawals. They helped, but he'd also taken to absently chewing on straws for the oral fixation, and Kitten seemed to approve. That was what was most important to G.

"Mr. Skjal?" A soft voice asked from the doorway, and G looked up to see a nurse. He lifted a finger to his lips, glancing at Kitten, and the nurse silently stepped in to give him a breakfast menu and check his IV.

"I'll go down and eat with Kitten. No need for room service," G whispered.

"Is there anything I get either of you?" The nurse asked as she came to lift the edge of the hospital gown and check the bandages on his side. They would have to be changed soon, just like every morning and evening.

"Coffee, please, a few sugar and cream packets."

"Of course. How are you feeling? And how's the pain?"

"My head's clear, but I think I could use some painkillers. It's not too bad, just annoying."

"Better than yesterday?"

"Much."

"Good, good. That means we'll be on schedule with getting you home today."

"Thank Christ," G sighed, giving her a smile. "As sweet as you and the other ladies are, I miss my own bed."

"You charmer," she chuckled, giving his shoulder a pat before she made her way out. G had become a favorite of the nurses on his floor after getting out of Intensive Care. Even when he'd been hazy with painkillers at first, he'd been a gentleman and had made sure to thank them heartily for even the smallest of things.

"Don." He heard Kitten shift, and she slowly sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. "What time is it…?"

"Eight," he muttered after glancing at his watch where it lay on a table by the bed. "You're always on time, even to wake up."

"You don't get things done by lazing around in bed," she grumbled, but he caught the tiniest flash of a grin as she looked at him. Having been bedridden for five of the past ten days, G knew it was leveled at him. But she meant it in good humor and he gladly met her kiss when she rose and came to wrap her arms around him carefully.

"Get much sleep?" He asked when their lips parted.

"Enough."

"Liar." He made her sit down beside him and he scratched his stubbled chin lightly. He normally kept clean-shaven, but he'd only gotten to shave once the whole time he'd been there, and Kitten had told him he looked handsome with a trimmed beard lining his jaw and mouth, so he'd let her clean it up however she liked and now, he was on his way to growing some fine, dark facial hair.

"The nurse said I ought to be able to get the hell out of here today.

"I heard her." Kitten leaned back with her arms supporting her, earning a sidelong glance from G.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Since dawn, I think."

"Kitten… you need to get more sleep… Go lay back down."

"I'm already up." G sighed deeply at her, wrapping an arm about her waist.

"You're more stressful than any of this hospital business."

"Now you know how I feel every day."

"Heh…"

…

By the time G was dressed in a loose shirt and slacks and pulled on his shoes, Les and Grey had arrived with the car and had come up to help get the Don's things around and take him back to HQ. Since the attack that had left five lookouts and four guards dead, temporary control of HQ had been given to the Don's inner circle, Kitten at the head. Anytime she wasn't at the hospital by G's side, she was working on reorganizing the defenses around Snowdin with Papyrus. Normally their master lookout wouldn't have failed, but his men had been taken out in between radio check-ins without anyone else knowing, meaning that their attackers had gotten inside knowledge about Papyrus and his men's inner workings. Kitten had begun rooting out possible defectors and traitors, and the upper floors of HQ were now only accessible by those she and G's boys personally approved.

"Brother!" G heard the familiar voice of Papyrus, and he turned with a smile to see the tall, lean man step in with Les and Grey. "We're here to save you from the doom and gloom of medical hell!"

"Thank God for that," G chuckled, meeting his younger brother's embrace. The taller man was gentle with his fragile sibling, but still hugged him close. Papyrus and the inner Family circle had taken most of Kitten's work so she could focus on G, so Papyrus had only gotten to visit a couple times while his brother had been in the New Home hospital.

"Anytime you're ready, boss," Les piped up, spinning the car keys around one finger.

"Let's go before the nurses decide they want to keep me." Rather than immediately follow the boys, G paused and looked back to where Kitten was waiting patiently with one of his bags. "Kitten?" He murmured, reaching out a scarred hand to her. That made the other three men all smile to themselves. Their Don and his Kitten rarely showed any kind of affection beyond a working partnership in front of others, so this was a little glimpse into the Don's love for her, and how he always thought of her first. She took his offered hand and they stepped out into the hall where Grey had brought a wheelchair for G, knowing he'd still be easily winded by the walk. Carrying the Don's things for Kitten, the three men let her push the chair and lead the way to the elevators and out.

…

By the time G was settled into his office chair after an uncomfortable, terribly long drive from New Home to Snowdin, he could only sigh deeply and slouch into the worn leather. The lingering smell of smoke in his office made him crave a cigarette more than ever, and his side was beginning to twinge again. But at least now, Papyrus had made it safe for him to have the blinds on the windows and sliding door open, as sentries were posted to make sure there wouldn't be threats of rooftop gunners. G had left the glass door to the balcony open, the second wire door shut to keep insects out but let the breeze come in and flow through the office and out the next room's open window.

The double doors leading into his office were open too, and G could see Kitten working at her desk from his angle, sorting papers, writing, signing, and so on in an attempt to catch up with whatever work she'd missed. While the boys had taken care of most of it for her, there were simply some things they hadn't known how to do, things only Kitten and the Don knew.

After a few minutes, she glanced up and caught him staring as if in a haze over the top of his glass of water and the few papers on his own desk. Kitten paused, lifting her head to look straight at him as he gave her a warm little smile. "What are you staring at, old man?"

"A pretty young lady, mostly. Not much else around here that's as nice to look at."

"You might be able to charm nurses, but not me, Don."

"Uh-huh… Tell that to the past two years, Kitten."

"You never charmed me, G," Kitten insisted. She laid her pen aside and came into the main office, stopping before his desk with her hands planted on her hips. "Even I need to let off steam sometimes. And you're always willing."

"Is that all we are, Kate?" G asked softly, his smile fading in a way that tugged at her heart. He never called her Kate unless he was upset, and it got her every time.

"That's what it started out as…" She sighed. "I was twenty and stupid, and I thought, a few romps with a man who can take control and make me feel a little vulnerable for once, and I'd be fine. Then I got attached."

"Attached?"

"You've been sweet to me since I first kicked your door down looking for a fight. Even when you absolutely thrashed me after I attacked you, you still picked me up and put me in your bed and took care of me til I was strong enough to try again. You never overstepped your bounds. You were a gentleman… you still are. Even though you're always in control, you never force me into anything, not even things you really want. Maybe… maybe you did charm me, once I got protective of you."

When G's gentle smile returned, Kitten could feel her heart want to melt though she would never outwardly show or admit it. G had once been as cold and calm as her, but he'd softened over time seeing that he didn't have to worry about showing emotion when he had not just money and power, but the strength of close friends and partners to back him up at all turns. Even when things went all to hell like in the recent attack, G hadn't doubted that his people would come out on top, even if G himself didn't.

"Come here," G murmured, sitting up in his chair. When she came to his side, he pulled her into his lap, letting her rest her head against his own. When her hand rose to run her fingers through his hair, he closed his one eye and sighed in contentment. That was Kitten's quiet way of telling him she loved him, even if those exact words had never actually passed between them. "You look beautiful today…"

"You say that almost every day, G. I never wear or do anything different."

"And I'm sorry for the days I miss or forget to tell you," his voice came out muffled as he tucked his head against her shoulder.

"Looks like the nurses were right… you're just an old charmer."

"Only for lovely ladies."

"Oh, shut up and kiss me already." When G raised his head, he was met with a long, lovely kiss that made tiny sparks burst before his eye as it closed and he simply relaxed into his Kitten's embrace.


	4. Friday Afternoons Pt4

Most Friday afternoons, Don G enjoyed a drink or two with those of his best men who wanted to stick around and play cards a while, before they all parted ways. Saturdays were considered catch-up days for any business that still needed to be finished, and Sundays were quiet days off for everyone except guards and lookouts who had a different schedule altogether to make sure Headquarters was never left unchecked. Ever since the attack that had left nine dead, Papyrus had made sure no angle went uncovered and that every man and woman had a partner so no one was caught out alone.

Lounging in his leather chair behind his desk, G was half-listening to the man standing before him reporting the usual drabble about incoming and outgoing goods. Halfway into the report, G sighed and sat up a little straighter. "Listen, Eric," he muttered, the seventeen-year old going silent instantly. "You're doing a fine job. Very meticulous. I know of all people, Kitten will appreciate that the most. But that kind of detail is for her, in writing. I only need to know if something has changed, or if something didn't get done and who's responsible. It saves you and I a lot of time. I don't mean to be rude, but I just don't need to know any of this beyond 'everything's normal, boss, see you next week.'"

"S-sorry, sir… It won't happen again," the younger man murmured, bowing his head.

"Don't be sorry," G gave him a smile, rising from his chair. "You take your new job seriously and I appreciate it. You'll just have to get the hang of the shortcuts. Your old man would be proud."

"Thank you, sir. I'll, um… I'll leave the reports with Miss Frisk, then?"

"Right. Then you can get out of here once your paperwork is all done and filed." G offered a scarred hand, and Eric seemed almost overwhelmed that he was allowed to shake the Don's hand. "I'm not anything special, kid. You can talk to me like any other human around here. Kitten is the one you have to be formal with."

G caught Kitten's brief glare from her desk over the young man's shoulder, and G chuckled, patting Eric's shoulder. "Go on."

"Yes, boss."

Once Eric had gone, G strolled to the open double doors and leaned on the doorframe to watch Kitten stapling a few pages together to be filed later. She knew he was watching, so she made him wait until she was finished sorting before she looked up. "What?"

"You're gorgeous."

"So you tell me."

"I may be a crime boss, Kitten, but I pride myself on my honesty."

"Mhm. How many cigarettes have you had since you got out of the hospital?"

"Two," he admitted with a nod.

"Not bad for four weeks."

"I thought so. You did say you didn't like the taste." G lifted a hand to stroke the fine, well-trimmed beard that he'd grown at Kitten's request. "And how can I live with myself if my smoking habits upset my Kitten?"

" _Your_ Kitten?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, watching G push off from the doorframe to come to the front of her desk. He leaned over and she couldn't help her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly when his lips touched her own.

" _My_ Kitten."

"What if I don't want to be _anyone's_ Kitten?"

"I'd just have to live with that, wouldn't I? It might break my heart, but… Whatever makes you happy, Kate." Hearing her proper name caught her attention, and G got a small, amused smile for his sweet words.

"Now _that's_ a good answer, Garrett." Kitten rose from her seat and came around to catch him by the tie, pulling him close until his hands found her hips and they were as close as could be. G was rewarded with a fiery kiss that made his heart leap, and her free hand slipped beneath his arm to press to the middle of his back as if she could get him any closer. Kitten could feel him shifting under her attention, his shoulders loosening and his entire muscled and broad form relaxing to fit more easily against her small curves. She let go of his tie, both arms looping around his thick neck to pull him down even deeper into the heated kiss.

Feeling his thumb catch the edge of her leather belt, she had to pull back, a hand pressing to his chest while he was left reeling and staring down at her as if lost all of a sudden. "Not now, G," she whispered. "Tonight…" He pressed his face to her neck with a long sigh and she chuckled to herself.

"But I don't want to wait…"

"You're a patient man, G. And it's worth the wait." Kitten pressed a warm little kiss to the edge of his ear, hearing a quiet rumble in return.

"It is… You always do this to me, you know…"

"What? Make you want me and then walk away?" When he lifted his head to fix her with an unamused stare, he was rewarded with an incredibly rare laugh that immediately brightened his expression with a smile. Kitten had a stern voice that was just a touch on the deep side, but still very feminine. Her laugh, however, always reminded him of a lovely wind-chime.

"Yeah, that," he chuckled in return, his lips pressing to her neck for a moment before he let her go.

"You do the same to me, G. Not very often, but you manage it," she admitted before taking her seat once more.

"Do I? How?"

"If I told you that, you'd start to figure me out. And what am I without my secrets?"

"Drop-dead gorgeous, for one thing, and sharp as a tack."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Skjal. Now either go finish your paperwork or go down and talk to Rissa and Jeremy."

"Yes, ma'am," G nodded to her, choosing the latter and heading out the main office door and down the hall. Catching up with the couple would do him some good. He was always looking after them since they'd shared their plans to start a family before long. They'd discussed it and Rissa had decided she was ready to give up working on the front lines with the Don's inner circle. But rather than retire altogether to be a stay-at-home mother, she was simply changing professions because she loved her job too much to let it go. She would join Papyrus' little subgroup of lookouts and informants. G wouldn't let it get dangerous for her and any potential children, and he intended to lighten Jeremy's load to give him more time at home when the time came.

G found the couple taking a break in the second-floor kitchen, Jeremy enjoying a soda while Rissa kept to her usual black tea. "Hey, kids. Anything new?" G asked as he stepped in, and Rissa smiled up at him, patting his hand when he laid it on her shoulder.

"Just got a shipment of brandy over the border. The kind Asgore likes. He already agreed to pay top dollar for it," Jeremy reported with a grin. "But just like you said, boss, we gave him a good deal. We don't cheat friends."

"Good. Asgore will appreciate that. How about you, Rissa?"

"I've been working on getting buyers for the gin we got in last month. So far it's just Grillby, but he said he had some friends who might be interested."

"Well, the gin was a risk. If all else fails, we'll sell Grillby half and keep the rest for the casino." G kissed her cheek and she chuckled. He'd always been affectionate with her and Jeremy might've been hotheaded about it in their early days there, only to learn that the Don was simply an affectionate sort to his nearest and dearest. Rissa had been the first beyond the Broadmoore brothers and Doggo to really care about G's well-being, and only the second woman in his close-knight circle. Toriel had been the first, but she wasn't a member of any Family anymore.

"Now… how are things outside work?" G asked, sitting down across from Rissa. "Did the sale on the house finally go through?"

"Yeah. We're gonna move our things over to the new place this weekend. Grey and Wolfe said they'd come pick up new furniture with us Sunday."

"Just don't let anyone's back give out. I need you all to stay in top shape."

"We'll have a chiropractor on speed dial," Rissa assured him, making G chuckle. The three chatted for some time, joined briefly by the always-grumpy Doggo and the quiet Wolfe before they all split off to return to work. By four o'clock, G had filed away the last bit of his own paperwork. He heard Kitten's desk phone ring.

"Mr. Skjal's office," she answered professionally. "… May I ask who's calling?" When she went silent for a long moment, G glanced over his shoulder to see a dark frown on Kitten's face. "If you'd like to speak with Mr. Skjal, you'll need to set up an appointment." G stepped into her office, concern clear on his features. "No, I'm sorry, he's indisposed at the moment. If you'll give me a name and number, I'll make sure he calls your employer back." She picked up a pen to jot down the note, but before she could give a curt farewell, the stranger on the other end hung up. Silently, she tore the note from the pad and held it out to G. Taking the scrap, G immediately recognized the name 'Arnold Forde.'

"That son of a bitch has the gall to demand a meeting?" G snarled, while Kitten remained deathly silent and calm despite her dark frown. "What did he say?"

"It was one of his men," Kitten answered curtly. "He said Forde knows whose boys attacked the hideout. He wants to make a deal for information."

"What kind of deal?"

"He didn't say, just that Forde needed something from you, and to call back in three days."

"Bastard… I swear to god if I ever see his face again…"

"G…" That made the Don pause.

"What?"

"I don't want you meeting with anyone who has anything to do with Forde, but… I want to know who attacked us and Undyne. Whoever it is has nine Snowdin Family members' lives to pay for, and Jeremy's blood, Wolfe's, and yours on their hands too."

"We've got time to think about it…" G sighed, laying the note down on the desk. "And time to figure out if it's just a trap. I wouldn't put it past the rat."

"Neither would I. I'll let Papyrus know to keep an eye out for the Townsends." Despite how small the Townsend gang was, they were just as dangerous as any of the big families combined thanks to their leader Forde's merciless tactics and his work in the illegal weapons trade.

On one corner of Kitten's desk sat her telephone and intercom board, as well as a HAM radio that was usually silent, but occasionally crackled to life when Papyrus or one of his boys tuned to her station to report something suspicious, or in emergency, tell Kitten which exit to evacuate everyone from. Papyrus was always listening in on that station just like Kitten, so she could reach him in seconds. G returned to his office while she spoke to Papyrus, quietly fuming in his own mind at the situation before them. Though things had been quiet since his return from the hospital, the dark cloud of worry still hung over HQ. No one knew who'd attacked them. None of the dead men had had any markings of their Family, not even wallets or IDs, and there had been no similarity among them all save the black bandanas they'd worn over their faces. If that was a gang marking, the Don and his extensive sources didn't know of it.

By five o'clock, G knew that both he and his Kitten needed to relax from the anxiety that plagued them. So with hardly a warning, G whisked her away to the back lot where his car had been brought around from the parking lot. The young driver handed over the keys and G opened up the passenger door for Kitten as he always did, before taking the driver's seat himself. He'd always driven Auburns, and his current car was a Model 8-88 painted maroon with white wall tires, four doors, and a convertible black roof.

Taking the back streets, G weaved through traffic expertly, followed by a few other Family cars headed the same way, and shortly arrived at Grillby's café. It was one of three cafes in Snowdin that contained a hidden speakeasy, but Grillby's was special in that the speakeasy was actually a large underground casino. While it was technically Grillby's place, Snowdin Family protected the area and were recurring patrons, and Don G had paid all of Grillby's debts and built the speakeasy in return for a percentage of the profit.

When G opened the door for Kitten once more, she stepped out with a deep sigh, glancing at the tall windows that Grillby kept spotless, offering a view into the café's simple storefront. It was moderately popular just as a little restaurant, but many of the patrons often came back in the evenings to play cards and drink away from the prying eyes of the law. Gambling had long since been outlawed outside federally-approved casinos, and all forms of alcohol except for medical supplies had been swept from the country. Grillby's place was what some prohibitionists liked to call a 'den of sin,' but G and his people considered it just a nice place to unwind. Kitten, who didn't gamble often beyond an occasional poker game and drank fairly little, usually only came by with the Don.

"Kate," a friendly voice called from the doorway. "Garrett." Toriel was just stepping out, dressed in a flowery, long skirt, a white dress shirt with puffed sleeves, and a long knitted shawl. Her low heels clicked on the pavement and she shifted her small handbag to the crook of her elbow when she stopped before them. She and G greeted each other with a kiss to the cheek each. A tall and imposing, broad woman, she was sweet as pie most of the time despite her long history as a mob boss' wife and secretary.

"Tori, what brings you into town?" G asked after Toriel hugged Kitten, one of the few people allowed to do so.

"I was feeling a little lonely, and I always enjoy talking to Grillby, so I came by for an early dinner." Toriel gave them both a fond smile, adjusting her sun hat over her light blonde hair. "And you?"

"We just got away from HQ. Kitten and I could use a little time to unwind."

"She could always use that, more than anyone," Toriel chuckled, earning a quiet sigh from Kitten and the tiniest eye-roll. "Well, I have some things to pick up before I head back, so I'll see you two around. I expect a call Monday about what's been so stressful, hm?" Toriel kissed G's cheek once more before heading toward the parking lot.

"She always knows," G sighed with a smile.

"Her job was to know everything. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already aware of our problem."

"Nope. No problems right now. Drinks and cards only." G let Kitten take his arm and he opened up the café door for her. They were greeted by several regulars inside and G offered a smile to each before they made their way through another door near the edge of the long dining bar. Once they stepped inside, G murmured, "Evening, James," to the huge bouncer sitting behind a desk near a stairway at the other end of the short hall.

"Don, Miss Frisk," James' gruff voice answered. "Anyone else coming?"

"A couple parties of my people, all regulars."

"Thanks, Don. Go right down."

At the bottom of the stairs was another short hall leading to a large door, which G opened up into a massive room that was quietly abuzz with chatter, shifting silverware and glasses, and the occasional round of laughter from one table or another. There was a slight smell of tobacco smoke in the air, but Grillby kept the place well-ventilated. More powerful was the scent of roasting meat and vegetables from the kitchens behind the huge bar, preparing food for the usual small dinner rush.

"Hey, Don!" Several voices called, some including welcomes to Kitten as well, in the form of 'Welcome, Miss K' or 'Good to see you, Miss Frisk.' G knew the faces of all the regulars, clapping a few men on the shoulder and kissing the cheeks of a few women on their way toward a back section that was reserved specifically for the Don's closest people, and was guarded whenever high-ranking Snowdin Family members were using it.

A waiter was already standing at the ready, having hurried out the moment a member of the serving staff had seen Don and Kitten enter. "Sir, miss, may I take your jackets and your hat?"

"Thank you," G nodded, taking Kitten's jacket from her shoulders first before handing his own jacket and hat over. "The usual, please. And we'll take whatever the kitchen's making in an hour."

"Absolutely, sir." The waiter left the roped-off section just as two of Grillby's bouncers took the usual places on either side of the entryway to the reserved area. It wasn't so much that the Don needed protection in a place full of friends and regulars, but sometimes drunken idiots tried to bother the Snowdin Family and Grillby didn't much approve of his favorite patrons being inconvenienced.

G leaned back in the padded chair, his hands resting on the arms. Kitten retained her perfect posture as always, but he could see her shoulders weren't so tense as before. In public, G and Kitten never showed anything but a professional partnership, but that didn't stop G from slipping a hand under the tablecloth to lay on her knee, offering her a small smile. Before long, a few others from HQ joined them, including Wolfe, Doggo, Papyrus, and someone G hadn't seen in over a year.

"Well, well. If it isn't Mettaton Taylor," G murmured with a smirk, sitting up a little straighter. "Still after my little brother?"

"Of course, darling," the slender and shapely man replied in a musical voice. Mettaton Taylor, one of the three leaders of the tiny Echo Family alongside his two cousins, was a widely-known jazz singer, but was probably most noticeable by his more feminine features. Even dressed up in a three-piece suit and a fashionable fedora, he managed to avoid losing the curve of his hips and shoulders to the squared edges of the clothes. His face was always perfectly smooth, and his medium-length black hair was absolutely pristine even when he took off his hat. His lips, soft and full, curled in a charming grin as he paused to loop an arm about Papyrus' waist in front of G.

"He's been nothing but a gentleman since we started going out, brother. I don't know why you're always so defensive when he's around." Papyrus took off his own simple trillby hat and took both their jackets, handing them off with a thank-you to a waitress who'd come to get their drink orders. Wolfe and Doggo ordered their usual scotch on the rocks, while Mettaton asked for a Fallen Angel for himself and a Mint Julep for Papyrus, the younger man's favorite drink.

Papyrus took his usual seat at G's side, Mettaton at his other elbow, while Wolfe was perhaps the one of the only people other than Papyrus or Rissa who didn't shy from sitting down beside Kitten, Doggo beside him. "So what brings you to my town?" G asked, glancing to Mettaton after the drinks were served.

"This cutie right here, of course. He invited me to come out to dinner," Mettaton gave Papyrus a smile, making him flush ever so slightly. Such a friendly relationship between Family leaders had been unheard of two decades before, but a lot of changes in power after a long and bloody internal struggle in several of the Families had put more level-headed people in charge, people willing to make friends and respect territory lines. It was commonplace for pairs of Dons to go out to lunch together or meet up for drinks, but they couldn't risk all being in the same place very often, lest some small fry take the chance to get rid of them all in one go.

"He didn't mention you'd be coming. Not that I mind, but I would've let him off early if I'd known."

"He called me a couple hours ago out of the blue," Mettaton said with a handsome grin, making Papyrus brush and habitually smooth back his short brown hair. "I only just got into town a bit ago."

"Well, you know you're always welcome at my table as long as you treat my little brother well."

"Sans," Papyrus murmured, and G smirked.

"I have to look out for my baby brother, Pap."

"I'm twenty-four…"

"You'll always be the little brother."

"Speaking of robbing the cradle," Mettaton interjected. "How are you, Kate, dear?" That made Kitten raise an eyebrow.

"Just dandy," Kitten murmured, but she knew Mettaton knew nothing. The most romantic side Mettaton and Papyrus had ever seen from Kitten and the Don was when G would lay an arm across her shoulders protectively for no particular reason, or when he wrapped her up in his coat in winter when the weather was too cold.

"No need to be sarcastic, my love. What's gone wrong in sweetheart land?"

"Just some… annoyances. But G insisted we come out and forget for a while."

"Good idea, but do let me in on it if I can help at all."

"Get in line, right behind Toriel," G chuckled.

"Well, until then, tell me what's new. Papyrus said you had some interesting new shipments?"

"Ones you might be interested in. But business aside, we have a new contact on the northern border…"

…


	5. Friday Night Pt5

By the time Don G and everyone else at the table had lost several dollars in to Papyrus, the master of reading his opponents in a brawl or in poker, G had drained three glasses of Blood and Sand. Kitten had switched to cola and water after finishing her White Russian. She was normally the one driving the Don home or back to his apartment in HQ on Friday nights, not that she minded at all. When he'd still had his house, she often ended up spending Friday night with him, then he'd drive her back to HQ the next day after taking her out for lunch, and she'd enjoy some quiet time to herself that night and through Sunday. Some weekends she'd stay with him the whole way through, only returning with him Monday morning. She'd even left spare clothes at his place just as backups.

Now that G was living in the HQ full-time, it was usually him coming down to Kitten's place seeing as his office didn't have a built-on full kitchen and master bathroom like her apartment did. As Kitten followed G to fetch their coats and head upstairs into the cool night air, she had to admit it was nice to know he was always in reach now, as much for personal reasons as professional. She plucked his keys from his pocket before he could even remember to hand them over, and she gave him a little nudge toward the passenger door. He chuckled lightly, opening up the door. While she slipped into the driver's seat, he called one last farewell to Papyrus who was heading for his own car with Mettaton. Wolfe and Doggo and anyone else still inside were sticking around a while.

Once G was buckled in, Kitten let the Auburn engine rumble to life and she flicked on the headlights before turning out of the lot and down the street. After a block, she felt G's hand rest on her lower thigh. Nothing new, but she always appreciated his little gestures, and she laid her free hand over his and squeezed gently to let him know just that.

…

With a long stretch of his arms and back, G shrugged off his coat and took off his Homburg hat while Kitten unlocked her apartment door. Once they stepped into the dark den, the faint scent of Kitten's favorite peach and mint candles reached G and he couldn't help a silly little grin. That was what Kitten always smelled like, and her kiss always tasted of either coffee or mint from the tea she drank. He glanced over at her after hanging up his coat and hat, watching her flick on the ceiling light. Before she could take off her coat, she was given pause. G's hands rested on her upper arms and she leaned back slowly against his broad chest with a quiet exhale. Her eyes drifted shut when he pulled the coat away, hanging it up before his fingers began to massage her always-tense shoulders. Though more relaxed after a night out with him and some of the boys, Kitten's idea of 'relaxed' was G's 'tense.'

"Coffee?" she nearly whispered, unable to help the way her head tilted to the side when his lips pressed to the join of her neck and shoulder, one finger pulling back her collar to make way.

"I'm alright, Kitten," he muttered. His arms wrapped about her middle to pull her back a little tighter against his chest. Her fingers came to lace through his hair when his lips touched once more just under her ear. The other hand laid over one of his own with her thumb stroking over his knuckles.

"You're not even going to let me freshen up before you start that?" Kitten asked softly, a chuckle rumbling against her skin in return.

"Not unless you want me to let you go."

"Five minutes, G."

"Five minutes." He pulled back, and Kitten dallied only a moment to smooth his short hair back slowly. Even if her expression was rarely more than neutral, her dark eyes were all G needed to see the quiet affection. She disappeared from his side into the washroom and he made his way toward her bedroom with a lazy stride. Of course, little had changed since he'd last been there. Her room was always in perfect order, the bed made without a trace of a wrinkle in the blue comforter or the black sheets. The one minor difference G spotted was a new clock on the nightstand, replacing the old one that had shorted out the week before. Nine o'clock.

G left his shoes and socks beside the dresser against the wall beneath a window, folding his vest neatly on the dresser top and discarding his shoulder holsters, twin Colt .45s and Colt .25 there beside. He didn't bother to take his tie off, knowing how Kitten liked to play with it even if she'd never admit such a thing out loud. He simply flopped back on the bed with a long sigh. The craving for a cigarette was still scratching at the back of his head after spending so long in the casino watching other people smoke. But he'd promised himself, for Kitten's sake, he'd quit. And even if he'd been set back twice, he was determined to do it.

Taking stock of himself in the silence and dark, he noticed the tiniest twinge in his side where he'd been shot some five weeks prior. It'd healed beautifully, but the doctor had warned him it might be sore for some time considering the damage. And though G wasn't quite one-hundred percent on lung capacity yet, it didn't bother him too much.

He was pulled from his wandering thoughts by the bedroom door opening once more, and he lifted his head with a grin to see Kitten step in. She'd discarded everything but her dress shirt which was now half-unbuttoned, the undershirt beneath, and her dark slacks. While some men might've preferred lingerie or more 'feminine' clothes, G adored the chance to free Kitten from the square-hipped and –shouldered clothing to reveal her slender and small curves.

"Hey," he murmured. "That was fast." Before he could sit up, she was already crawling up the bed to straddle his hips with practiced ease.

"I said five minutes," she replied quietly, letting her fingers trail down his pinstriped tie.

"You're the only person I know who actually means five minutes when they say it," G chuckled, tucking one hand behind his head comfortably while the other wandered up to his Kitten's waist. The dress shirt was already untucked and her belt missing, and he found it oddly cute how her hands were half-covered by her shirt cuffs now that they were unrolled and unbuttoned. But his favorite sight usually came about on Saturdays or Sundays, when she tended to wander around her apartment in nothing but his dress shirt and slim shorts.

"I pride myself on punctuality," Kitten commented calmly just before she tangled his tie around her fingers. "I know how impatient men like you can be."

"I have nothing but patience for you, Kate."

"Tell that to my ripped shirt from last Sunday." She shut him up with a slow, searing kiss before he could retort, and she felt both his hands smooth over her hips and thighs. When his fingers caught the edge of the waist of her slacks, she sat back to let him play with the button and zipper absently for a moment until he moved on to her shirt buttons. Calmly she watched him slip each button from each hole, studying his one dark, blue eye. As an older man, he had offered Kitten plenty of experience the first night she'd demanded to go home with him. Once she'd settled down a bit and learned from him, their little fling had become less rushed and unpredictable, smoothing out into more of a proper relationship that was equal parts professional and personal though they did separate the two completely when in front of others.

Kitten nearly shivered at the very thought of her first night with him. It hadn't been her first time, having had a couple short-lived boyfriends and even one lovely girlfriend prior. She'd just turned twenty two nights before, and she had gotten up the gall (or reckless stupidity) to tell G exactly what she wanted from him and why: a man who could take control for a few nights to help her ease some urges. Ever the gentleman, G had taken her out to dinner before taking her home. She'd found herself suddenly nervous alone in his bedroom with him, and G had managed to completely crack her temperamental shell by the end of the night, leaving her completely satisfied and draped against his chest til morning.

"Penny for your thoughts?" G's voice interrupted her memories after her dress shirt slid from her shoulders and down her slender arms. The feel of his scarred and calloused fingers leaving trails down her bare arms actually brought a tiny smile to her lips.

"Thinking of you, mostly. And how much of a fool you were to indulge a girl like me in her little fantasies. How much of a fool you still are because you just keep right on doing it."

"I'll take it," he chuckled, watching as she slipped from her slacks and tossed them and her over-shirt aside. He made short work of the A-shirt underneath, leaving only a pair of panties and a bra behind for the moment as she set to work on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt in return. "I still don't know what a beautiful woman like you sees in an old man like me."

"Self-control was the first thing I noticed about you, shortly followed by awe of how you could set an entire Family in motion with just a few words. I had spent so long being the master of my world, even working for you, that I wanted to feel a little… taken care of? No… Controlled. Call it a kink, but it was all I could think about for a while."

"Is that why there's handcuffs in the bedside cabinet?" While Kitten almost never blushed, she would flinch ever so slightly when embarrassed. When she leaned down, G was ready for the punishing little nip she gave his neck and he let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, come on, Kitten. You know I enjoy making your little fantasies a reality."

"Shut up and do it, then," she challenged when the last button of his shirt came open and she let his tie slip away onto the blanket.

"Yes, ma'am." Kitten's world turned suddenly, her wrists trapped above her head a split second after she found herself on her back with G hovering over her. A little smirk came to her lips, tipping her chin up to give G access to her neck and throat. He had a deep obsession with her skin when they were alone, one that made his nicotine addiction pale in comparison. When he pressed into the cradle of her hips, Kitten's entire body let go of a week's worth of tension and she let her Don take control. He knew what she liked and what she needed, and he was all too glad to oblige.

…

…

…

Kitten practically collapsed with one final moan against the bed beneath him and G's chest was heaving with effort, about ready to follow. Still, he managed to prop himself up on his hands and knees. The long-healed bullet wound in his side was twinging again and he already had bruises forming along his waist and shoulders and a couple long scratches down his back. He hardly cared, staring down at Kitten's bare back beneath him with a stupid little grin. Her own shoulders were trembling ever so slightly, telling him he'd done well.

"Kate." He muttered her name softly, lifting a hand to smooth over her tan skin and brush her brown locks aside from her slender neck so he could place an adoring kiss to that sensitive little spot behind and under her ear. She reached back to tangle her fingers in his hair, shivering at the sensation. G let himself settle on his side next to her, and pulled her back against him once more. Kitten's groan at being moved told him she hadn't quite recovered yet, and he chuckled at her, peppering the back of her shoulders with slow and warm kisses until she finally turned onto her back. The Don's eyes slowly explored over her curved shoulders and bare breasts, down past her trim belly and between her thighs, reaching out a scarred hand to let his fingers wander over her skin along the way.

G's eyes drifted toward the nightstand, past the handcuffs that had briefly held him when Kitten had wanted to have her way, to the clock that now showed midnight. He knew Kitten was long-winded, but three hours was a lot even for her. Perhaps all the extra tension lately had made it harder for her to find pleasure. Regardless, her Don hadn't given up until she was satisfied. She let him know just how much she appreciated that when she got his attention once more, lifting her hands to the line of his jaw and drawing him in for a long, lovely kiss that made him outright melt against her side.

"That was fantastic," Kitten murmured groggily, her usual neutral attitude forgotten when she nuzzled up against G's neck and her fingers played with his trimmed beard and hair. Her lips were curled in the smallest silly grin not unlike G's, and it widened when his arms completely encircled her and he put one of her thinner pillows beneath her head where it rested on his bicep. He made it perfect when he drew the messed-up blanket they'd long since kicked aside, up to her shoulders.

G let his head rest on another pillow, simply watching as his Kitten settled and began to drift off. More often than not, they would stay up a while and talk, but she was thoroughly worn out. Her fate was sealed to sleep when his fingers combed through her long, chocolate-colored hair to soothe her just that tiny bit more. Even if he was exhausted too, he rarely fell asleep at the same time or before Kitten. One of his most favorite parts of sex with her was getting the chance to watch her sleep so peacefully in his arms, willing to be naked and vulnerable to the world until morning because she trusted that he would keep watch over her. It was his way of repaying the many times he'd been exhausted or beaten in a dangerous situation, and had allowed himself to rest under her watchful eyes when she insisted she would keep him safe. Perhaps the two situations weren't comparable at all- sex versus fighting bands of unorganized thugs. But it made sense to Don G.

It was nearly twelve-thirty when a wave of sleepiness came over him, but before he shifted one last time to doze off, G kissed Kitten's forehead and let his arm drape over her once more. His smile remained even as his blue eye closed, and his last thought was simple- they were going to be sore in the morning.


	6. Truce Pt6

"You're sure about this, Don?"

Doggo's voice pulled G from his dark thoughts, and G glanced over to see the nearly-blind fighter checking the magazines of his guns. Doggo's vision might've been compromised, but in all the years G had known him, Doggo had been a crack shot and never mistook a Snowdin member for an enemy. He wasn't taken as much of a threat by other people, which was precisely why G kept him around as a secret weapon.

"We've brought our best muscle. Even if it is some elaborate trap, we'll come out of there with something. It'll either be information, or Forde's head. I don't mind which I leave with."

"We could leave with both, if you wanted."

"If Forde is being genuine, then this is a common enemy. It's better to take his side and deal with the threat with more men. If there's anything the Townsends hate, it's little upstarts, even if they're barely more than a tiny upstart gang themselves. And while Forde doesn't fight fair, he hates when he has to share victory with anyone else. Destroying us because an outsider weakened us wouldn't be a total victory for him. He may be an absolute bastard and a cold-blooded killer, but he has a sense of pride."

"It'll get him killed."

"I'm counting on it. But not yet. He still has a use and even if he intrudes on Snowdin, he does keep the streets clean wherever he goes."

"You almost sound like you admire him, boss," Wolfe muttered, having kept silent the entire ride so far. G glanced over, watching Wolfe for a moment as he shifted the gears of the Auburn.

"I admire his ability to get things done quickly and done right. If he didn't completely lack a soul, I might've liked to be business partners with him. It'd certainly have made us better-outfitted and armed."

"We've got the Core Family for that, though," Doggo muttered from the backseat, making G sigh. "I know you don't like dealing with your old man, but he makes the best guns in Delta if not the entire western hemisphere."

"Of course he does, which is why I outfitted you all with his weapons and bullet vests once I took over. But he isn't our friend. He'll sell to anyone who has money, including Forde."

"Oh… I guess I didn't realize he sold to anyone other than the main families."

"He's always researching, so he needs all the income he can get. The government doesn't give much in the way of grant money for developing weapons even if he's their best. Though one thing I do appreciate is that he never gives them his best work. He always sells to Snowdin, New Home, and Echo first. The military and the police are always a step behind."

"… He's getting on in years now, isn't he?" Wolfe asked softly. "Any idea who his successor will be?"

"Seventy," G muttered. "He hasn't chosen anyone. I think he intends to just keep going until he's gone, and let his inner circle choose."

"That doesn't seem terribly smart considering some of their tempers."

"What does he care? He'll be dead."

"Doesn't want to leave a good legacy?" Doggo asked with a raised eyebrow.

"As far as he's concerned, he lost any chance at a real legacy when Papyrus and I left him to join Snowdin. He didn't necessarily disown us… but we never talk except for business. Even then, he prefers to deal with Kitten or Wolfe instead of me." Glancing to Wolfe once more, he gave the huge man a reassuring little smile. "That's fine, though. You two seem to understand him in a way I never could."

"Speaking of which," Doggo muttered, changing the subject away from the Core Family Don for G's sake. "Who's Miss K riding with? She's normally with us."

"I let her sleep in," G shook his head, seeing Doggo's eyes widen slightly in surprise through the rearview mirror.

"You never make deals without her."

"I don't… but she has some… history with him."

"History…?" Doggo growled, his chest tightening with anger at what G might be implying."

"It's not my place to say, Doggo. Those are Kitten's secrets to keep."

"When we do finally kill him… I'm taking his head and that gun of his to Miss K."

"I'll be right behind you," Wolfe agreed quietly, telling Doggo that he likely knew what had happened between Forde and Kitten.

"You'll have to beat me to it," G said with a little smirk. "Though I hope she gets to be the one to put a bullet between his eyes."

…

 _"Hey, baby… What's that look for? Wasn't last night fun? … No? Aw, come on, Kitty- …! You little BITCH! Don't you dare ever raise your fucking hand at me again, you hear me?! Or I'll blow those pretty little brains out across the fucking wall! Get over here! You're gonna learn some goddamned respect!"_

Kitten opened her eyes with a start, and suddenly realized she'd overslept. Sitting up quickly in G's bed, she looked at his bedside clock. That bastard had turned off the alarm! It was already ten o'clock, meaning he'd probably been up two hours before her. A sense of angry panic settled into her chest as she threw off the covers. The cool morning air made goosebumps appear across her naked form, but she couldn't have cared less. Pulling on a fresh outfit of black slacks and a cream-colored dress shirt, and a matching black vest to cover up her shoulder holsters, she poked her head out of the bedroom to see his office empty.

"G, I swear to god, you fucking idiot," she snarled under her breath before quickly slipping on her shoes and grabbing her jacket from beside the double doors. "Wolfe! Doggo!" She yelled, half-sprinting down the stairs. She ran into what felt like a brick wall, but two powerful hands caught her shoulders and steadied her when she stumbled back.

"Whoa, whoa," Grey's gentle voice reached her and she looked up at him with what he could only describe as rage.

"Where's G?" She demanded quickly. "Did he leave? Why aren't you with him?"

"Calm down," Grey muttered, holding her still when she tried to pull away. "He went out with Wolfe and Doggo, said they were picking up some money."

"Grey, how can you believe that?!" Kitten growled, slipping under his arm. "They went to meet Forde!"

"What?!" Grey followed her into the second-floor kitchen where Les was getting a glass of water.

"Both of you, get downstairs. Now!" Kitten snapped, making Les jump and nearly drop his glass. "Get five bullet vests, grab Papyrus and Wayne, make sure you're all armed. I'll get the van."

"What's going on?" Les asked quietly, but Grey grabbed his shoulder to shut him up while Kitten stormed out.

"Just do what she says. I'll explain on the way."

In less than five minutes, Papyrus was up front in the van with Kitten, and the other three men had piled into the back. "Papyrus, I'm going to kill your brother," Kitten muttered, throwing the van into gear and speeding out of the back lot.

"I might help if you tell me what for," Papyrus muttered through clenched teeth, holding on for dear life as the van dodged traffic. Kitten was among their best drivers, but that made it no less unnerving.

"Grey."

"The Don's meeting Forde," Grey spoke up through the back window.

"Saaaaans!" Papyrus groaned, tilting his head back against the seat.

"He took Wolfe and Doggo with him. He had told us it was going to be at one o'clock and we were all going to go… but he didn't want Miss K to come," Grey muttered. Grey and Papyrus both knew why, but Les and their extra hand Wayne Dyers had no idea. They decided not to ask.

"I'm going to strangle him with his own goddamned tie," Kitten growled. "And then I'm going to kill Forde with G's gun and leave G to get arrested, and I'm not going to send his lawyer or bail him out."

"Kate, he's just worried about-"

"I don't fucking care, Papyrus," she snapped, making the older man shrink ever so slightly. "He always does this when the Townsends are involved! I wouldn't mind so much that he left me behind if he'd just told me and taken all of you! Only going with two men? He's asking to be surrounded and pumped full of lead!"

The men all kept quiet after that. She was absolutely right, of course. G was terribly reckless when he was trying to protect Kitten, be it physically or emotionally. And she absolutely hated him for it.

When the van came to a screeching halt outside the old bay warehouse an hour later, Kitten kicked her door open and headed right for the main warehouse door, seeing two men in dark suits guarding it with Thompson sub-machine guns.

"Hold it, lady," one growled, both guns leveled at her. "This ain't a park for a summer stroll, piss off."

"Oh, shut up, Townsend," Kitten shoved right past them, her boys all right behind her. Wayne and Les stayed outside while Grey and Papyrus followed her inside. The two Townsend guards were left speechless and confused, and they saw Les grin.

"You two should be happy. You just met Kate Frisk and survived."

Inside was a labyrinth of crates and shipping containers from around the world, waiting in storage until they were shipped away again or sold. Kitten weaved through the aisles until she reached the center, finding a single light in the ceiling shining down on a little table and two chairs. Four men stood around the edges of the light's reach, and Kitten immediately recognized one as Doggo. Wolfe was nowhere in sight.

"-sure it's them?" She heard G's voice as she drew close, and when Grey's footsteps caught their attention, all four Townsend men aimed guns in her direction. Doggo and G were still calm, simply looking over to see Kitten and Grey and Papyrus appear. "Calm down. It's my people."

"Don," Grey spoke up, his voice letting the man know he wasn't terribly happy with the situation.

"Brother, what is the meaning of this?" Papyrus demanded, walking right up to the table. "Pardon the interruption, Mr. Forde, but we were not informed that the meeting was rescheduled.

Kitten and Grey had paused at the edge of the circle of light, and everyone there saw a twisted little grin appear on the Townsend leader's handsome, angular face.

Arnold Forde was of a similar build to Papyrus, tall and very lean, almost thin, but his features were much sharper and more threatening. His golden-brown eyes were focused on Kitten's face, and he smoothed his slicked-back blonde hair as he stood from his seat. Having taken off his jacket and vest, his gun belt was in full view with his devastating, famous Magnum revolver at his hip. His powerful forearms covered in tattoos of vines and natural imagery were visible with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but he still wore his usual half-finger leather gloves with the studded knuckles. Kitten had to hold back a tiny shiver at the grin on his handsome face as he stroked his goateed chin.

"Well, well, well," he murmured. "If it isn't my little Kitty. I was worried when you didn't show up with your Don."

"Forde," G's growl rumbled out. "We're here to make a deal."

"I can't say hello to my favorite doll?" Forde took a few strides toward Kitten and it was all she could do not to edge back closer to Grey or draw her Colt in her nervousness. Her expression was completely neutral, though, not giving Forde anything.

"Hello," she muttered. "Done. Now finish your business so we can get back to work."

"That's awfully cold, babe. Come join us. I've got an extra chair." He snapped his fingers and one of the Townsend men disappeared to fetch an extra folding chair. When it was placed at the table, Kitten gave Forde a wide berth and approached, pulling the chair away from the table and closer to G's side. Forde grinned at the sight and took his own seat once more.

"You were saying?" G muttered, feeling Kitten's hand secretly grip the back of his jacket while Papyrus stood just behind them.

"I was saying, yes, I'm sure it's Russo. He's been working on moving his operations into the country for years now, and he just finally moved over and he's officially a citizen of Delta now along with all of his closest people. He's had his eyes on New Home, but Asgore's a little too much of a big fish right now. So Russo's been looking at the small towns, like Snowdin, Echo, and my little Streamtown. He already tried to kill you directly, he blew up one of my smaller armories, and he just dealt a massive blow to Echo Family this morning."

"What did he do?" G's eye narrowed, having not heard a word from Mettaton or his cousins.

"Andre Taylor was found dead in his home, bullet right through the temple. Sniper, probably."

"Oh my god!" Papyrus gasped, and G reached back to grab his arm and silence him.

"That's what I thought, considering Mettaton had such a perfect set of bodyguards with Andre. But the whole security detail was found dead too, all their throats slit. That's the signature operation of Russo's best little assassin team: take the main target with a silenced rifle and get the rest with a knife. No noise, no witnesses. Now, I don't know about you, Skjal, but I don't really fancy that happening to me or any of my guys. And I'd hate for that to happen to you, especially Kitty, there."

G ignored the concerned smile Forde gave Kitten, though he unconsciously shifted a little closer to Kitten when her grip on his jacket tightened. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, your buddies in the other Families won't talk to me, so I want you to get them on board, that way Russo can't hope to stand up against us."

"That's going to take some time… but I know I could get Echo and New Home at least."

"Good, so we can both get out of here and get to work."

"Anything else? No threats or blackmail for me this time?" G asked with a raised eyebrow, earning a bitter chuckle from the younger man.

"Listen, old man. I know how you _love_ spending time with me, and you think I just adore you, but... well, frankly, I hate your guts and I'd like nothing more than to pull out this Magnum and take off your head and maybe blow a hole in your brother's stomach while I'm at it. So let's get out of here and get this over with. Then we can go back to leaving each other bombs in the mail once Russo drowns in his own blood, ey?"

"Agreed," G nodded, rising from his seat. "I'll try to get a truce with everyone else until this is settled."

"Great, just swell. Now get out of my warehouse." Forde leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, a little smirk coming back to his hips as he watched Kitten. G's arm wrapped around her shoulders and they and the other Snowdins headed for the door. "Bye-bye, Kitty," Forde called after them, and Kitten felt G's hand tighten ever so slightly on her sleeve when she secretly flinched.

Once out into the sunlight and away from the door guards, Kitten pulled away from G, gave Grey her keys, and went to take the passenger seat in the van. G knew that meant he wasn't allowed to ride with her, and he watched Grey, Wayne, and Les all get into the van and drive away. He'd hoped to have the meeting over with and be back before Kitten knew he'd gone, but Forde had been an hour late, and there had been a lot to discuss. With a sigh, G pulled out a pack of cigarettes out of habit, but he stopped and stared at the box once he flipped the top open.

"Boss?" Doggo asked, pausing beside him while Wolfe got the Auburn. G pressed the box into Doggo's hand and shook his head, glancing up when the Auburn approached.

"I don't think flowers are going to get me out of this one…"

"No, Don, I don't think they will."


	7. Consolation Pt7

The silence that greeted Don G was deafening when he stepped into Kitten's office. The doors to his office were open and a cup of fresh coffee was sitting on his desk beside a stack of papers and the morning newspaper rolled up next to that. It was almost noon, G having dragged his feet about coming back to HQ when he knew Kitten didn't want anything to do with him. She was there, as always, working away as if all was normal.

With a quiet sigh, he stepped up to her desk and set a paper bag down on the corner. He, Wolfe, and Doggo had picked up sandwiches for G's inner circle, and G had brought Kitten's usual turkey club with a side of mustard and mayo and some fries. In his other hand was another bag with his usual small lobster roll and a hot beef sandwich with ketchup. Kitten didn't react at all to him, not that he expected her to, and he walked on by to his office, letting the doors drift half-shut, obscuring their view of one another's desks.

At almost noon exactly, he heard the paper bag crinkle in her office and her shoes clicking when she walked into the tiny half-kitchen behind her desk to get a glass of water. G had already finished his own food and coffee, and he was staring down at the front page of the newspaper. A picture of Andre Taylor in his signature bowler, stroking his thick beard while Mettaton leaned on his shoulder with a smile, Blue just behind them, was printed across the page with the headline 'Echo College Founder Andre Taylor murdered'.

The article was the usual reporter babble about how Andre was a well-liked member of the Echo community and had regularly shared his massive fortune with charity and education funds, and had founded Echo College when he was only nineteen with support from his uncle, Mettaton's father. The college had always thrived, the first center of higher education outside New Home in Delta, and the only one for five-hundred miles in any direction to offer degrees in performing arts thanks to Mettaton's input since inheriting his father's fortune. The article barely touched on evidence of who the killers could be, simply stating that there had been multiple assailants that killed Andre's bodyguards, and a shooter who'd made what must've been a nearly-blind shot through Andre's shaded bedroom window from a billboard platform next to a nearby road. That was Russo's men alright, G thought with a sigh. Russo had long since secured the best snipers from his home country of Sualia, picking former military snipers and giving them handsome salaries to be his mercenaries, with the utmost secrecy and legal protection so that they could do their jobs almost anonymously.

G pushed the newspaper off his desk and into the little bin beside, running his fingers back through his hair and slouching into the leather desk chair. He glanced up when one of the double doors swung open, and Kitten stepped in. She didn't look at him, her attention on a clipboard in her hands. She laid a folder on his desk before turning back to head downstairs, probably to check stock in a section of the warehouse. G wanted to stop her and talk, but he remained silent. It was too soon, and she had a lot to process beyond just his recklessness. Andre's death had hit them all hard, and G could only imagine how destroyed Blue and Mettaton were at that moment. When Kitten disappeared out the main office door and down the hall, G glanced at the folder she'd left. Just some things to sign, nothing important. He went through the pages signing each line Kitten had marked, then rose to place the folder back on her desk before going to his office phone.

Dialing the familiar number on the rotary phone, G waiting patiently for someone to answer. It was a long wait, but finally the receiver picked up and he heard a familiar, quiet voice. "Hello…?"

"Hiya, Blue. It's Garrett."

"Oh… Hi, G. Do you need to talk to Mettaton…?"

"Both of you, actually."

"I'll get him…" It was about thirty seconds before another voice came on.

"Garrett, darling," Mettaton's usual charm was diminished, and G could tell he'd been crying by the quiet sniffle and the quiver of his voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Blue still there with you?"

"Yes, he's right here."

"I know there's really not much I can say, boys. And I know you're hurting pretty badly right now. But I want you to know a couple things. First… if you need to get away for a while and hide, you know my place is always open to you. I know it can get hard to breathe and you might want to be away from all the well-wishers and reminders if only for a day or so."

"Oh, thank you, sweetheart…"

"Secondly… I know who's responsible." G could tell by the silence that he'd just brought on a flood of anger over the sadness.

After a long moment, Blue muttered, "Was it Forde?"

"No. In fact, he wants our help to get rid of the threat. It's the same group that blew up his armory, shot me, and has been trying to get at Asgore."

"Who?" Mettaton growled.

"The Sualy immigrant, Russo."

"That motherfucking swine, I'll t-!" Mettaton's voice grew far away when he dropped the phone and G could hear him raging in the background when Blue picked it up again.

"Forde's helping us…?" Blue asked quietly.

"I already agreed to a temporary truce in a meeting with him today. He wants Echo and New Home to join in until Russo's taken care of."

"We're in," Blue agreed softly.

 _"Garrett, you tell Forde to get me a goddamned gatling gun and I'll finish this myself!"_ Came Mettaton's voice in the background

"Mettaton-" Blue began.

 _"I'll slash his throat and watch the light go out in his eyes! I'll break every bone he has and castrate him with a fucking brick!"_

"Hey," Blue's gentle voice drew away from the receiver a bit, but G could still hear them. "Mettaton, come here…"

 _"Andy's gone, Blue! That son of a bitch took him away…!"_

"I know, M... Come here…" Soon G could hear muffled sobbing mixed with Blue's soft reassurances that they'd make it and Russo wasn't going to get away, that they and their friends would ensure Andre had justice. G waited patiently, feeling his heart clench painfully for the two. All of the higher members of Snowdin and New Home Families knew the three cousins and Andre had been a likable, protective man that, despite his vicious temper and cruel treatment of his enemies, had practically raised Mettaton and Blue while all of their parents had been busy running Echo Family and had really never gotten close with the three. Losing Andre was like losing their father. Mettaton hadn't been hurt so much as a little forlorn when his real father had died, though his mother had passed when he was a child and broken his heart. Blue, on the other hand, had always been the outcast of his immediate family, and if he'd felt anything when his parents had been shot point-blank by mercenaries, he'd never shown it despite witnessing it himself at age twelve.

"G?" Mettaton's voice soon returned, trying to compose himself.

"I'm still here."

"You tell Forde we're in. And if you can't get Asgore to agree too, let Asgore know and I'll convince him. But I think he'll want to do this for Andy too. They were good friends…"

"I'm sure he will. I might call on Toriel for information on Russo too."

"She loved Andy, I'm sure she'll help us out… And G?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Papyrus around…?"

"Downstairs, giving you space."

"Could you… could you tell him that we need him…? Not just me… I think Blue could use seeing that stupid, adorable smile too…"

"Yeah…" Blue murmured, his voice muffled against Mettaton's shoulder.

"I'll send him over. Keep him as long as you need. And hopefully we can get this done and take Andre a little memento from Russo when this is all over."

"I plan on it, darling."

"Take care of yourselves, boys, and let your people know Snowdin is here for them too. I know Andre had a lot of good friends around there."

"Thank you, love. We'll let you go."

"Bye, boys."

"Bye, G."

"Goodbye, Garrett."

When G placed the phone back on the hanger, he headed over to Kitten's desk and turned on her radio. Picking up the speaker, he hit the 'talk' button. "Papyrus, come in."

"Papyrus here!" He answered immediately.

"It's Sans. Hand over command to someone for today and come up to my office, little brother."

"Can do, brother."

Within minutes, Papyrus came trotting up the stairs and into the office, finding G looking out the back window behind his desk, stirring a fresh cup of coffee absently. "Brother?"

"Hey, sit down for a minute," G murmured, turning to motion to the extra chair on the opposite side of his desk. Papyrus plopped down, his usual energy and good mood only slightly diminished by the silent worry in his mind. "I just got off the phone with Mettaton and Blue."

"Oh," Papyrus muttered, suddenly very quiet as his brows arched in concern. "Are… are they okay?"

"That's a strong word for it, but… they're managing. Once we're done, Mettaton asked that you go over. He and Blue could use the Great Papyrus to make them smile again."

"I'll do my best, brother," he promised quickly. "But what did you want to talk about?"

"Echo Family, mostly… and Dad."

"Um... okay."

"I let Mettaton and Blue know Russo's responsible, and Mettaton's ready to go on the warpath with us and Forde… But you know Dad's going to want blood too."

"Yes, he and Andre were close…"

"Andre was the closest friend Dad's had since Ma, along with Asgore and Toriel… and we could use that firepower. Russo's going to be expecting us to strike back, and he's got a reputation for a massive arsenal and more than enough men to use it all. This is going to be war, Pap."

"You want me to talk to Dad?"

"He won't talk to me, little brother."

"He will, if you just talk to him."

"I'd rather he see a friendly face. You know me… I always want to get in a fight with him. But you… you still love him and he cares about you."

"He loves you too, brother, and I know you must still love him."

"That's beside my point… I don't want to argue about family right now, Pap. Just… please, once Mettaton and Blue are okay, talk to Dad about joining in on the truce and helping Forde outfit the Families for a fight. Ammunition will be the big limiting factor."

"… I can do that."

"I appreciate it, Pap. Normally I'd ask Kitten, but…"

"I know. You need to patch things with her before anything starts, especially with the risk of one of you getting hurt. The other would never forgive themselves if that happened while you were still fighting."

"We aren't fighting-"

"Disagreeing, then. I don't care what you call it. But you did do something very stupid and I'm not terribly happy with you either, Sans."

"… Why do you still call me that?" G asked softly, meeting his brother's gaze. "All these years of people calling me G and Garrett, and you still call me Sans."

"Because that's what Mom called you. It's what I grew up calling you," Papyrus explained as if it were simple. "No matter what anyone else calls you, you're still my big brother Sans."

G had to chuckle at that, rounding his desk to pull Papyrus into a tight hug, the younger man's head resting on his chest a moment before he stood and towered over G, pulling him in once more. Now G's head rested on Papyrus' shoulder and he outright laughed at how small he felt. G himself was 5'11", but Papyrus had ten inches on him. It had made buying clothes difficult, he remembered, until they'd gotten a proper tailor.

"Mom would be proud of you," G muttered, "all grown up with a good job, a partner who loves you more than himself, and plenty of good friends around you."

"She might be mad that we stayed in the smuggling business like Dad… but she'd be proud of you too. You do so much good for this town and you never look down on anyone who's decent and kind."

"That's your fault, little brother."

"Well, the Great Papyrus is the best friend anyone could have, so I had to teach my big brother how to be a good friend too." Papyrus drew back to grin down at G, getting a smile in return.

"I'd say you did pretty well. Now, go comfort your boyfriend and his favorite cousin. They need some love."

"And you fix things with Kate," Papyrus gave G one last squeeze before trotting out of the office to the stairs.

G was left standing for a while, his smile fading when he thought of trying to patch things up with Kitten. He had a hard time of reading when it was best to broach the subject of his own idiocy when she was mad at him, because she was amazingly good at keeping completely neutral until he said the wrong thing and she absolutely blew up at him. While she had calmed over time, her temper was deadly when it triggered. She would never really hurt the Don, but other men might not be so lucky if they got in her crosshairs.

Don G decided to wait for her to return, pulling his extra chair out to sit in front of her desk. Normally when he was stressed and unsure like this, he'd smoke. But somehow, tobacco sounded terrible at the moment. Perhaps he'd finally kicked the habit, or else being worried about Kitten made tobacco just… unappealing.

When she finally did return, she completely ignored that he was sitting and clearly waiting for her, sorting through her paperwork as normal and stepping around him.

"Hey, Kitten" G murmured when she sat down, turning the spinning chair toward a side table where her typewriter waited.

"Hello, Don," she answered curtly, loading a piece of paper into the bail. He was surprised she answered at all.

"Uh… I think I owe you an explanation."

"No. I know exactly why you went without me."

"I mean, I owe you an explanation about-"

"There's nothing you can say to make taking only two men sound like it was a good idea."

G swallowed hard at the purely neutral tone of her voice. If he argued, he was going to be treading some dangerous ground. But he felt he had to. "I didn't want to take Les and Grey…"

"And why is that?"

"Well, they both needed to be reachable, for their wives-"

"Mhm."

"And, well… Papyrus has his own job to do, he's not supposed to be one of my bodyguards…"

"Mhm."

"And I wouldn't want to separate Wolfe and Doggo, so… I took them."

"And no one else. No lookouts. No extra drivers. No extra firepower. Because Forde is harmless, of course." Her sarcasm made G wince. He was in deep now.

"I knew things could go south whether Forde was honest with us or not, and I didn't want to get a bunch of people killed…" She never even looked at him, typing away at a memo for the warehouse supervisors.

"You wouldn't have, if you'd taken plenty with you. Yet you walked right into that warehouse in no-man's land with a blind man and a fistfighter, when you knew Forde probably had gunners on every rooftop and twenty men hidden inside with sights on the back of your head. You didn't even have a vest on, did you?" She didn't look up or hesitate in her work once.

"Uh… no."

"Hm. If I didn't know better, Mr. Skjal, I'd say you were suicidal. And that's fine. But next time you walk into the lion's den, don't take my boys with you. I'd like to keep some good men around to be your pallbearers at the very least." With that, she pulled the completed memo from the typewriter carriage and rose. G knew she was just lashing out with such harsh words, but they did hurt.

"Kitten…" he sighed, standing up to follow her, freezing when she whipped around to fix him with a cold stare. It was so emotionless and blank that he felt a tiny shiver down his back.

"I have work to do, Mr. Skjal. Considering it's _your_ business, I suggest you let me do it."

"Kate," G muttered when she turned back around. She was gone from the office in just a few long strides. He hesitated at first, but a determined frown came to his face and he followed her down the stairs to the first floor. "Kate, hold on," he called when she reached the bottom, but her step never faltered.

"Lane," she spoke up, walking over to a burly man in a sleeveless shirt and jeans and a backward baseball cap. "Give this to your brother, please. And make sure Gaines sees it too."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, taking off one of his thick gloves to accept the page before disappearing around a stack of crates to do as she'd asked.

"Kate." G reached to catch Kitten's arm before she could walk away again, but she pulled away. When she tried to dodge around him, he managed to snag her by her belt near the hip. "Kate, stop and listen to me."

"Garrett, if you don't let go of me right now, I swear I will break your fingers," she threatened, her expression darkening but her calm still keeping intact.

"Go ahead and try, but you're going to listen." G pulled her closer and she grabbed his wrist firmly.

"Grey!" She suddenly called, knowing the man was nearby. When he rounded a corner, she managed to pry G's hand away. "Keep him away from me, for his own safety." She slipped past the blond-haired giant and Grey looked to the Don at a bit of a loss. He stepped in the way when G tried to get by, taking G's arm.

"Not a good idea, boss…"

"Get the fuck off me," G growled, but he couldn't stop Grey from taking his other arm and dragging him away. G's heart just wasn't in it to fight, knowing he'd never win against Grey and even if he did, Kitten would just call Wolfe.

"Let's go have a drink, G." Grey pulled him back toward the stairs, and G finally followed willingly to his office. Grey got into a cabinet near the grandfather clock, pulling out a hidden bottle of smooth whiskey and two crystal glasses. A quick trip to the little kitchen for ice and Grey shut the double doors, sitting down with G to pour them each a generous helping of the strong alcohol. G simply stared at his for a long time as the ice melted down, but Grey didn't push or say a word. He'd wait patiently, just like any other time the Don was in mental turmoil, until G finally spoke to his old friend.


	8. Bar Tab Pt8

Come quitting time, Don G felt pretty awful. He hadn't drank enough to fall into that careless state he desperately wanted to be in. Instead, he was slightly buzzed and annoyed at absolutely everything. Grey was sitting quietly by, staring down at his own empty glass and mulling over some of the things the Don had said.

Grey knew G was the sort to want to drag as few people down with him as possible if he should fall, hence why he hadn't taken more than Doggo and Wolfe to meet Forde. But Grey also knew that Kitten hated that about G. While she admired his need to be responsible and accountable for his own business and mistakes, she couldn't stand it when he cut down on his defenses for the sake of not getting his people killed. She understood completely, being the sort who didn't want anyone to take a bullet for her either or else she'd feel guilty forever. But he was a Don, for Christ's sake. If he died, his entire business and the people he cared about would be thrown into turmoil even if there was an heir in place. They'd come under attack when all the street gangs heard he was gone and they would suddenly lose all fear and respect for the Snowdin name. That was as good as a death sentence for all the runners and drivers and smugglers who got caught out by their enemies. Kitten knew more would die if G did, so risking bodyguards' lives for his protection was worth it in the long run both morally and financially.

G didn't look up when a knock sounded on the double-doors, so Grey rose to open them and found Les there, escorting a young woman. "Hey, boss?" Les asked. "Miss Bailey's here to see you, if you have a second."

"Come in, Kelly," G muttered, standing up to properly greet Asgore's secretary.

"I hope my showing up now isn't an inconvenience, sir. Mr. Dreemur sent me right over the moment he got off the phone."

"With who?" G asked, raising an eyebrow even as he shook her hand when she came close.

"With Miss Frisk, of course. She said you had some sensitive information to discuss about Mr. Taylor's death. Our phone lines are… unreliable right now, to say the least, so Mr. Dreemurr sent me to talk to you in his place while he deals with the phone issue."

"Oh… right…" Of course Kitten had probably gone to her apartment to continue her work there where she had a phone and radio and extra typewriter handy. She kept them for whenever she wanted to work off-days or when she didn't want to be around the Don.

"Now, what is it you needed to tell us?" Kelly asked, sitting down with her leather briefcase and pulling out a notepad.

"Andre… we know who killed him," G muttered, going to lean on the windowsill and glance around the back lot- or at least whatever wasn't obstructed by the outside balcony and fire escape. He repeated all he'd learned from Forde and the plans they'd made for a truce, followed by his call with Mettaton and Blue. Kelly took it all down in shorthand, elaborating here and there with tiny letters and he paused often to let her catch up. He was used to dictating memos and notes to Kitten because he was useless with a typewriter and she could fire off a full page in what seemed like only a minute if she knew what she was writing.

"I think, sir, it's safe to say Mr. Dreemurr will join you, if only for the Echo Family's sake. Especially poor Blue and Mettaton." Kelly glanced back over her notes. "You mentioned plans to ask Dr. Gaster to join the fight?"

"I sent Papyrus over to Echo earlier, but after he's done there he'll visit the Core and see if he can't appeal to our father. I think he'll say yes, considering how close he was with Andre… but if Papyrus can't convince him, I might ask for Asgore's help."

"Just give me a call if your brother can't manage and I'm sure we can manage. If not Mr. Dreemurr, then Mrs. Dreemurr."

"Toriel can sweet-talk anyone. And failing that, threaten them," G chuckled, but it was fairly humorless.

"Don, you seem out of sorts."

"Just a rough day, sweetheart, don't worry about it," G gave her a warm smile and she couldn't help smiling back, her eyes offering sympathy.

"Miss Frisk sounded somewhat… frustrated when she called me. I hope you both can relax once you're done here."

"Let's hope so." G watched her pack away her notepad and he came around the desk to offer her his arm to walk her out.

"Oh, you're so sweet," Kelly patted his shoulder and took his arm, walking to the stairs and down, guiding her all the way back to her car where a New Home driver was waiting for her. Once the car pulled away, the Don was left standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out at the street. He hardly noticed his feet moving until he was blocks away pushing open the door to Grillby's, glancing up with a wave to a waitress before he headed through the back door and down the stairs past the bouncer James and into the casino. It was quiet and mostly empty. The dinner crowd would be small considering it was a Tuesday, and Grillby himself was working at the bar with two others. It was his favorite work, G knew, and Grillby didn't get to do it as often as he liked anymore now that the place was so big and required constant overseeing.

"Hey, Grillby," G muttered, settling on a padded barstool at one end.

"Hello, Sans," Grillby answered in his usual calm and even, deep voice. Grillby was among the oldest friends G had, having known him when G was a thirteen-year old hooligan and Grillby was a young and struggling business owner at twenty-four. Now thirty-nine and fifty respectively, they were as steady as friends could be especially after a then-twenty G had swooped in and rescued the bar from closing at the start of the Prohibition. They'd drawn up the plans to convert it into a café together, then slowly designed the underground speakeasy and casino little by little while G was making his name in the world of smuggling and bootlegging. It was safe to say that the speakeasy was their child project and they were still always making improvements here and there.

Grillby didn't have to ask what G wanted, whipping up a Blood and Sand in a matter of seconds and sliding it to G on a square napkin. "You've already been drinking," Grillby muttered, noting G's slightly disheveled hair and the very slight alcohol flush of his skin.

"Yeah, courtesy of Grey."

"Rough day?"

"You have no idea…" G drained a quarter of the glass at once, finding it was a nice change from whiskey on ice.

"Does Kate know you came down?"

"Nope."

"… Is she going to care?"

"Not today, she won't."

"I see," Grillby nodded, leaning on the bar to look at G.

"You see what?" G raised an eyebrow at him with a frown.

"What did you do?"

"You always assume I did something."

"Well considering you'd forgive her even if she destroyed the world, it usually _is_ something you did."

"Gee, thanks pal… " G muttered, but he knew Grillby was right.

"You're very welcome," Grillby retorted calmly to the sarcasm.

"I… goddammit, I know I'm an idiot, but she just doesn't get it…"

"She understands you better than you do yourself, Sans. I'm sure she 'gets it,' but she's worried about you."

"You don't even know what happened."

"I can gather enough from context to know that you did something reckless and now she's absolutely livid and won't talk to you. The only questions that remain for me are exactly what you did, and whether she's threatened you for it yet."

"She has, or at least she did when I tried to stop her from walking away."

"Broken wrist?"

"Close. Fingers."

"Mhm. Now what _did_ you do?"

"I went to meet with Forde…"

"Without her?"

"She would've been fairly okay with that."

"Oh. You didn't take a full guard, did you?"

"Did I really need to say anything at all? You always figure it out."

"Sans, I've known you for twenty-six years. I can read that morose face like a book. All I have to do is keep suggesting possibilities until I see your brows furrow."

"Goddammit, Grillby…" G growled, hiding his face in his crossed arms on the bar.

"Why didn't you take a full guard?"

"You know exactly why," came G's muffled voice.

"And you did it even despite Kate's reasoning as to why you should take more, not less if you want to save lives?"

"Shut up…"

"You came to me, old friend. If you want me to shut up, pay your damned tab and go." Grillby's voice remained calm and kind, though, letting G know he wasn't offended at all.

"I just… can't stand the thought of seeing my best boys shot for me. I know I should be all about bodyguards and security, doing what I do and with the enemies I have. But if I lost them, I'd never be able to face their families again. I took Wolfe and Doggo because they understand that, but they feel like they have to repay me for the time I took those bullets for them six years back, and for helping Doggo get over his coke addiction."

"Can you blame them?"

"Yes," G insisted, lifting his head to fix Grillby with an unamused glare. "They've already repaid me a million times over, and I owe them if anything. But they wouldn't let me leave without them."

"If you'd gone completely alone, I doubt Forde would've passed up the opportunity." When G didn't answer, Grillby rounded the bar and sat down beside him, knowing the other two bartenders could handle the smattering of people. "Kate's right, Sans. More people means less death. The more of an intimidation factor you have, the less likely things are to go south. And if you did die… more would crumble than just your friends' hearts. Snowdin Family wouldn't be the same again for years. You know how much trouble you had taking over way back when, when no one took you seriously and you were just some kid with a rabble behind him in the eyes of the other Families. It took you years to build up reputation and respect, not to mention get the Family out of debt when you entered smuggling and bootlegging. I think of all things, my business would be the only thing left standing strong because you've helped me get it to where it stands on its own. But I wouldn't be okay… Kate especially wouldn't be okay."

"I know, Grillby… I know… Here I am trying to be responsible for myself and take my own bullets, and you two prove that I'm really just being selfish and short-sighted."

"Short-sighted, yes. Selfish, absolutely not. But we _want_ you to be a little more selfish and put your own safety above some things for once."

"Kitten has to come first."

"I agree. You and I promised a long time ago that if we had to choose, we'd save our girls rather than the other. You save my sunshine, and I'll save your Kitten."

"You still call Amy that?"

"All the time. Though my newest little girl might be inheriting the name before long."

"Yeah, how is their little family doing…? I never got much of a chance to meet Amy's husband and I only saw a picture of your granddaughter."

"Roark is one of my chefs, actually. That's how they met. He usually works Wednesday through Friday and then Sunday. Little Genna is… she's perfect, Sans."

"Aw, Grillby," G finally smiled then, leaning against Grillby's shoulder to tease him. "Look at you, in love all over again. Does she call you grandpa, or papa like Amy used to?"

"She's three months old, Sans. She doesn't call anyone anything," Grillby muttered, giving his old friend a little shove despite his smile.

"I can hear it now. Once she starts talking, she's gonna crawl around after you all over your house just calling for her papa and chattering away all day."

"What about you?" Grillby asked, and G paused.

"What _about_ me?"

"Time's ticking away, old man. Are you ever going to have your own family?"

"Grillby…"

"It's an honest question."

"… Probably not. There's more important things to deal with."

"Have you ever even asked?"

"… Kitten's not the motherly type. And besides, the age difference is too much."

"You didn't answer my question."

"No, I haven't asked. And I'm not going to."

"You might be missing out on something wonderful, my dear Sans. Your Kitten might like the idea."

"She's a workaholic who's never spent a day of her life around children."

"She spends every day with you."

"Yeah, hardy-har, pal. Whatever… besides, right now's not the best time to ask anyway."

"But next week might be."

"What, do you want to be an uncle or something?" G looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't mind, but I'm not asking for me. You've always been a sweet man, Sans, and I know you enjoy children and family is incredibly important to you."

"I'm not dad material like you, Grillby. I don't have a good relationship with my Dad and Kitten and I aren't… we're just not steady enough to be parents, okay? When we fight, things get really unpredictable. Why would I even think of putting a kid through that? And we both work constantly. There's no room or time for a kid. We're criminals… a child deserves good, honest parents."

"You two are the most honest criminals I know, and you never fail to offer a helping hand to a person in need, even an enemy."

"That's another thing. We have enemies. Normal people don't have enemies, Grillby. They have folks they dislike and avoid, not thugs who will come hunting for them with a fucking Berretta if they don't watch their backs."

"I think you'd make a fantastic father."

"Are you not hearing me at all?"

"And Kate would make for the most patient mother on the face of the planet."

"Grillby!"

"Yet you won't even bring it up because you think the age difference matters, and somehow you think you and Kate won't be able to give a child everything it needs, including safety. I know you've thought about it, Sans, so don't even try to lie to me. It bothers you, that you never had a family of your own, especially now that Papyrus has gone off and found himself a wonderful partner and you don't have to protect your little brother anymore."

When G didn't answer back, Grillby sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I know you have more immediate worries right now… but you'll stew forever and never talk to Kate about such important things, and you'll regret it when it's too late to even consider."

"We wouldn't be good parents…" G muttered, more to himself than Grillby.

"The only bad parent is one who doesn't care." Grillby hugged Sans briefly by the shoulders before rising to head into the kitchen. By the time he returned, G was gone and a large bill was left under his empty glass to cover his drink and anything unpaid from the past month. Good, Grillby thought. G was headed back to try to patch things up with Kitten. And he finally paid that goddamned tab.


	9. Bruises Pt9

G leaned heavily on the doorframe, waiting patiently after knocking for the second time. He knew Kitten was in her apartment and he knew she was working at the little desk in the back corner of the den. She could hear him, but she was ignoring him. He sighed quietly and let his back rest against the door, sliding down to a sit in the hallway. Everyone else was long gone save the posted guards and lookouts. It was nearly six-thirty, saw when he glanced down at his black watch face with the silver hands. He heard Kitten's phone ring inside, and could just hear her voice when she picked up. It sounded like she was talking to a friend by how her voice slowly smoothed out and softened until he couldn't make out the words anymore. He didn't really listen in, knowing it was Kitten's business, and he finally knocked one more time over his shoulder once he heard her say goodbye to whoever was on the other line.

A loud _tick_ on the door right behind his head him made him start. She'd probably thrown a pen at the door to shut him up, and a bitter little smile came to G's face at how amusing it might've been if he weren't the one she was mad at.

"Kitten?" He called softly. No answer. "Kate…" Nothing. "Kate, listen… You don't have to open the door, or talk to me, or even come out tomorrow if you don't want to. Just listen, okay?" Only silence.

Letting his head rest back against the door, he sighed again and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm an idiot. I'll admit that without prompting anytime. And you're right, I should've taken a larger guard with me if I was so worried about getting my boys shot. Grillby helped put it in perspective a little better, and I realized I don't just piss you off when I go running off without a bullet vest and only two men… I know it scares you, more than you'd ever say out loud. I'm not narcissistic enough to think you'd never be able to go on without me if I died... You could rule the world without me. You could do anything without me… but I know if I got myself killed, you'd probably be the one I hurt the most by leaving. Again, I don't want it to sound like I think I'm your world or something stupid like that… but I'd destroy everything we worked so hard to build between us."

G paused, mulling over just what he and Kitten had built beyond their professional lives. "Despite your history with other people, you took a risk and opened up to me once we got attached… And I know it'd be nothing short of betrayal if I went out without protection and got myself killed. That could've happened today… Forde could've decided he didn't want to pass up the chance to get me and two of my best. And I know it's even worse, what I did, considering I did it where Forde was involved… Russo's a goddamned ankle-biter compared to the potential danger the Townsends pose if they really wanted me gone right now. Forde could've just snapped his fingers and however many dozen gunmen he had in that warehouse would've opened up on us. We wouldn't have even had the chance to draw our guns."

He heard footsteps inside, but the door didn't open. "And I don't expect you to forgive me, doing that to you. I might've waited a few days to let things cool down and then try to apologize, but… fuck it. I've had just enough to drink that I don't care if you beat me senseless, I just had to say something."

The lock clicked, and G sat forward to look back over his shoulder. When the door began to swing open, he stood and faced it fully to find Kitten standing there glaring death up at him in a way that would've made any man who didn't know her shrink in nervousness. But G knew it was a defense, a thorny shield to keep away outsiders.

"Kate," he murmured, and she suddenly snagged him by the tie to drag him into the den, the door slamming behind them. He was just buzzed enough that when she suddenly pulled him around and shoved him toward the sofa, he couldn't catch himself and fell back against it. Before he could recover and sit up straight, she had grabbed him by his loosened collar and the tie again, leaning down close to his face with a murderous and empty stare.

"What do you fucking want from me, Garrett? What do you expect? For me to burst into tears and forgive you? To pull you into my room for make-up sex til three in the morning?"

A tiny, drunken part of G wanted to answer 'that'd be great' but he bit his tongue and simply held her gaze with a neutral and calm expression. "Answer me!" She snarled, tugging him even closer.

G's hands rose to lay gently on her slender wrists, and he felt her grip falter just a tiny bit. Tilting his head down, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and she outright hauled off and slapped him across the face for it. G was stunned, to say the least, his cheek burning and stinging from the vicious strike when he slumped on his side and she let go of him to storm away. It wasn't the first time she'd slapped him and it probably wouldn't be the last considering his track record, but he still hadn't been ready for it. He was soon on his feet to follow her into the kitchen. The previous times she'd gotten angry enough to hit him, the Don had found it was actually because she was scared, terrified even. And it was always over his recklessness.

Kate had planted her hands on the counter, holding herself up as she tried to get a grip on her flaring temper. Stepping up behind her, G tried to slowly wrap his arms around her middle, but she spun quickly to shove him. He caught her sleeve and didn't let her go, his expression remaining calm. "Get the fuck away from me!" She snarled like a caged animal, smacking his chest and letting out a yelp when he grabbed her arm to keep her from lashing out again. "No! Garrett, I swear to fucking God, get off me!" She tried to use all her weight to rip her arms away from him, but he simply wrapped an arm around her and hugged her tightly to his chest. She tried to push against his shoulders, her nails digging into his collarbone. "I don't want to be with a dead man!" That made her breath hitch in her throat and when he just wouldn't let go, her limbs grew suddenly weak and tears flooded her eyes, making them sting until she had to close them tightly and the tears leaked out.

Her knees gave in completely, but G didn't let her fall. Instead, he slowly sank to the floor with her until his back was resting against the counter cupboards. Sobs wracked her body seconds later. When her head rested in defeat against his shoulder, G let his own head lay on hers. "Shhh…" he soothed. His arms didn't loosen even when he lifted a hand to brush through her hair and he pressed a kiss to the corner of her jaw, the only place he could reach.

"I don't… want to be… with… a dead man…" she choked out between quiet sobs, and her hands tried to push weakly against his chest once more but to no avail. "Let... let me go…"

"I'm sorry, Kitten, but I can't this time," G murmured and that only made her cry harder. He'd never seen her like this and it secretly scared him. He knew they were together and had been for some time. He adored her and she would do anything for him. But he supposed he hadn't realized just how deep her emotions ran for him. He'd just never thought about it. She wasn't an emotional person. Logic was everything to her. He was the more emotional one, at least in everyday life. He was the one who smiled more easily, who openly showed compassion, who was friendly and fairly open to new people. She was the cold and neutral watcher whose very presence demanded respect and didn't allow for nonsense. But here she was, sobbing her heart out and telling him she didn't want a man with a death wish to hold her heart. He knew she was his girl… but he hadn't even thought that her heart belonged with him. Not that she didn't have one, but… it was normally made of stone. Perhaps he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

When Kitten's breathing began to slow and even out, G's grip around her finally loosened and he let himself slide down to the floor completely with Kitten resting on top of him, both letting their bodies completely relax. That was, except for her fingers, now gripping his shirt for dear life while the last tears rolled down her cheeks to leave little spots on his shoulder and collar. She flinched when his hand came up to touch her cheek, and G felt an extra tug at his heart on top of how it felt like it was in a vice. That was a leftover reaction from Forde, no doubt, an instinctual wince away from what her memories told her was an incoming slap. That made G hug her tightly once more, pressing his lips to her other cheek when she hid her face in shame for letting herself flinch away from a man who'd never even had the thought to raise a hand at her. And yet she'd hit him… A fresh wave of tears came over her and she just felt sick and frustrated.

"Kitten…?" G's voice reached her and she just tried to bury her face a little deeper against his chest. "Oh, sweetheart…" It physically hurt to hear such a loving and sympathetic tone from the older man, and Kitten finally untangled herself from him and fled with a stumble to the bathroom, nearly collapsing against the sink set into the counter. She heard G rise and his footsteps approaching. She tried to pull herself away from the sink and shut the door on him, but he caught it well ahead of time.

"Get… get away," she begged, unable to process all the memories and worry running through her mind. She hadn't had this kind of inner turmoil since the last time a man had cornered her in a bathroom, towering over her weak and vulnerable form as tears rolled down her face and her eyes pleaded for mercy. That man had been Arnold Forde, and that had been only one moment in two weeks of the worst days of her life. But now, it was Garrett Skjal, and Kitten wasn't covered in bruises with a split lip, and he wasn't trying to do even more damage. He was trying to help as the memories took hold and a panic attack set in. Her breathing grew ragged and she flinched away once more when his scarred hand reached out to her. He knew he couldn't leave her alone, even if she wanted it. She was in a dark place triggered by a deeply-seated fear of losing what she held most dear, and an old fear of men in general. It was why she was always so in-control in her normal life, because she didn't want to give any man an inch against her.

G's hands were gentle but firm when he took hold of her arms and slowly pulled her in against his chest again. He didn't make any sudden movements or speak at all, letting Kitten process in her own time that she was safe and he would never hurt her. He wasn't sure how long it took before her trembling hands rose to press against his lower back weakly, finally accepting his embrace and closing her eyes. Her shoulders sagged and G placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Sweet Kitten," he muttered, and she took in a shaky breath. "You don't deserve to be so scared… You never have."

When she finally got up the courage to look up at him, he met her gaze with a warm little smile of reassurance. "There's my Kitten," he whispered. "You look so tired." He reached over to the sink to pick up a washcloth from the rim, flipping on the faucet to wet it. Kitten closed her eyes while he wiped the stinging tears away, followed by a small towel from a hook above the sink to dry her face.

G managed to coax her out of the bathroom and to her bedroom, where he undressed her slowly down to her undershirt and underwear with practiced ease, and tucked her under the blue comforter on her bed. Once she'd fallen still, he leaned down to pick up her discarded clothes and tossed them into a hamper, and he laid her shoulder holsters and belt on the dresser with her shoes on the floor beside.

"G." He turned when he heard her voice, and she slowly pulled back a corner of the blanket in a gesture for him to join her. He had to admit he felt pretty tired himself and the alcohol and high emotions had left him in a mild haze. With far less care than he'd treated Kitten's clothes, he tossed aside all but his slacks and laid his guns on the dresser too before crawling into bed with her.

There was more to talk about. More to argue about and work out when they were level-headed and Kitten wasn't hurting so badly. But for the time being, G was comfortable with just holding his Kitten and drifting off to sleep early that night. And he did so, shortly after he was certain she'd dozed off herself.


	10. Reconciliation Pt10

Waking up in her Don's arms should've been comforting. For a moment it was, until Kitten saw the damage she'd done in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. There was a light bruise on his right cheekbone under his missing eye, and there were little scratches, one or two proper cuts, along his chest and collarbone from her nails. An awful feeling washed over her and she slipped from G's embrace to retreat from the room with fresh clothes from her dresser.

Closing the bathroom door behind her, Kitten paused before the mirror above the sink and took a long look at herself. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was tousled more than usual from G playing with it to soothe her. She was surprised to find bruises on her upper arms, left from G holding onto her when she panicked and fought to get away, not wanting his comfort. She often had similar bruises and so did he after weekend evenings spent romping between the sheets. Like these ones, those bruises were never intentional. They were just strong people who liked to play a little rough sometimes. But these bruises… they came from G trying to keep her from losing herself, and from Kitten trying to run from a memory that had become a little too vivid a little too suddenly.

Leaving behind her underclothes, Kitten turned on the shower and let it grow warm before stepping into the tub. She simply let it pour down over her whole body, willing the water to wash away the awful guilt she felt for hitting G even when he'd apologized and admitted she was right about his reckless habits. He'd been nothing but sweet to her, and she'd slapped him for it and dug her nails into his chest when he tried to calm her. It wasn't the first time she'd had a panic attack in his presence, but it was the first time she'd lost control completely and even relapsed into a memory of Arnold Forde cornering her in her old flat.

Kitten shivered at the thought and turned the faucet handle a little further toward 'hot.' Then she heard the bathroom door open. Glancing out through the frosted glass door, she could see G's familiar shape moving around and undressing until he opened up the door and stepped in behind her. His tired eye was only half-open as he reached around Kitten for a bar of soap, and she stared down at the drain while he worked up a lather in his hands. It was all so normal, as if the night before hadn't happened. G almost always joined her in the shower after spending the night with her.

Feeling a broad hand lay across her back, Kitten wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find her neutral composure. When he began to smooth the soapy lather over her skin, she almost wanted to cry again at how gentle he was, but she simply stood in silence and let him do as he liked. She should've enjoyed his attention, his hands wandering all over her skin leaving trails of soap behind in a perfectly innocent gesture, but any pleasure was overshadowed by frustration. Seeing no reaction from her at all, G said nothing and simply continued until he'd finished with them both and let the soap wash away. Kitten couldn't help relaxing when he began working shampoo into her hair, the feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp always soothing no matter how mad or hurt she was. And when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder after washing away the shampoo and then the conditioner she always used, she had to finally turn and face him. But she couldn't look him in the eye yet.

He was terribly handsome, she remembered, a mature man with a broad chest and shoulders, his body a solid and pleasing form of squared and triangular lines. She timidly reached out a hand, her slender fingers following the center line of his chest before traveling over his ribs toward the scar from the bullet that had caught his left lung not so long ago. His own hands rested at his sides to keep out of her way, until she took his wrists and placed his hands on her waist in a silent welcome. G took the little half-step to close the distance between them, and Kitten met him with a suddenly-desperate kiss and her fingers gripped tightly at his shoulders. G gladly obliged her. For a moment they could both forget the day before and just enjoy each other. But just as Kitten's fingers came up to tangle in his short, dark hair and run through his short beard, she felt those damned tears welling up again.

Her kiss faltered and she pulled back a few centimeters to take in a shaky breath. G wouldn't let her retreat and hide again, his arms completely encircling her waist now. His forehead rested against hers and they both just stood like that for who knew how long with their eyes closed and the hot water cascading over them. When the water grew lukewarm and told them the water heater was running low, Kitten finally pressed one last kiss to her Don's neck and slipped out to get a towel. G didn't follow immediately, giving her a moment alone while he finished washing his hair.

By the time he emerged, he found Kitten had skipped her own clothes and just stolen one of his huge shirts and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. He came out in just a pair of dark pants and an undershirt, his hair combed back neatly. Kitten was sitting on the sofa, brushing out her long hair with a paddle brush to get out any tangles from the thick locks. G walked by, reaching out to caress her cheek briefly with his fingers on his way to the kitchen. Coffee and breakfast was in order.

Kitten kept to herself while he worked, playing absently with the buttons on the shirt that dwarfed her slimmer shoulders and slender frame. Everything she owned, right down to the bra she wore underneath and the boxer shorts she sometimes wore in place of more 'feminine' underclothes, fit her correctly. But she couldn't deny the comfort that wearing her Don's shirts gave her. It was a similar feeling to when he wrapped his jacket around her in the cold, or playfully put his hat on her head when she was being too serious. She unconsciously hugged herself about the middle at those thoughts. The sound of plates and silverware being laid on her small dining table eventually caught her ear and she glanced over the back of the couch to see G splitting a large omelet between the plates, soon returning with toast and jam and some sausage. His gentle gaze leveled in her direction silently welcomed her over and he pulled out her usual chair.

Kitten quietly- meekly, even- left her place on the sofa to join him at the table. They ate in silence, one wishing she knew what to say and the other knowing nothing needed to be said. By the time they cleared their dishes away, Kitten wasn't sure if she just wanted to stay in his arms all day, or hide.

He made the choice for her when they walked back into the den and G picked up a light blue blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around Kitten's shoulders, and she let herself settle into his lap when he sat down. They lounged back together, one of his arms resting around her waist and the other laying along the back of the sofa.

"G…" Kitten murmured.

"Hm?"

"I… I'm s-"

"Don't." That gave her pause and she looked up to see his one blue eye still closed.

"What?"

"Don't say it."

"But I… hit you."

"Let's call us even."

"Garrett-"

"You get a shot at me after I nearly get myself shot. I'll call that fair."

"Why are you forgiving me?"

"I'm not. There's nothing to forgive. I'm still waiting on _you_ to forgive _me_. That is, unless I need to keep saying I'm an idiot to prove I'm sorry." When that blue eye opened to look down at her, Kitten had to avert her gaze in shame.

"You really _are_ an idiot," she muttered, answered with a good-humored chuckle.

"So you tell me, sweetheart." G placed a kiss against her cheek and she shook her head once he pulled away. "Listen to me, Kitten," he whispered, lifting her chin to make her look at him. Once her exhausted brown eyes met his single blue eye, he gave her a handsome smile that made her heart squeeze. "It's okay. I promise everything's okay. Yesterday was pretty scary for everyone involved. I risked a lot walking into that warehouse… and I'm so sorry you felt like you had to come after me. I didn't want you to have to face Forde. I think that was what last night was really about… He brought back some terrible memories, and I was the only person in front of you. I don't mind a couple little scratches and bruises if it means I can get you out of that panic."

"You didn't deserve that," Kitten insisted, and though she wanted to, he wouldn't let her turn away just yet.

"Whether I did or didn't, that's beside the point, Kate. My point is that I needed you to be okay. You might not be okay yet, but I'll get you there. The fact that you were ever okay after Forde still amazes me."

"It was a long time ago."

"So?" When Kitten didn't answer, both his arms settled around her waist. "It _was_ a long time ago… and I'm sorry it happened while you were working for me. If I'd known back then… We wouldn't be dealing with him today. And I hope you don't hate me for letting him live while he's still useful…"

"No, I don't. I know he's still got a part to play for both of us… I'm nothing if not patient."

"Very much so, if you can deal with me."

"You make it sound like I'm obligated."

"True. You could walk out anytime you like, disappear into the wide blue yonder and make a new life in a place where no one knows you. It'd probably be a lot easier than this shit."

"It's worth it," Kitten assured him quietly, her forehead pressing to his cheek.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Kate. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably find another secretary."

"Kate…"

"But seeing as you don't know how to do half my work, they'd never get proper training and your business would fall apart until you figured it out." A laugh rumbled from his chest and Kitten couldn't help a tiny smile. "If you're talking about your personal life, you'd probably go through pretty girls like hot cakes because none of them can beat you up like me."

"Well, that'd be _one_ reason."

"What else am I here for other than dragging you to bed on the weekends and berating you during the week?"

"You don't give yourself any credit, Kate," G muttered with a smile. "You're the whole reason I get up on Monday mornings even with a hangover to come into the office." He didn't need to elaborate for Kitten to understand what he meant. They were two people that could be content alone, and they were incredibly independent and it did cause some clashes when the other worried. But together, they were just… comfortable. So it was worth it to struggle through a rough morning just to go into the office and find the other, just for the comfort.

"What are we doing with ourselves, Garrett?" Kitten sighed, a kiss pressed to his chin.

"Annoying each other, breaking laws, and drinking too much," he summarized quite confidently.

"It sounds so fun when you put it that way…"

"I don't know who, but someone once said 'life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.' Sound about right?"

"Just about."

"I don't really want to go to work today."

"Me either."

"Then we'll stay right here, Kitten." She felt a kiss pressed to her temple after her brown eyes closed, and though she still didn't feel very good about the previous night's proceedings, Kitten felt herself relax completely in that safe space between his arms. It wasn't long before they both dozed off, wasting the morning away as they pleased. G would call Grey later and let him know they weren't going into the office, but he didn't care much at the moment with Kitten so warmly nestled against his chest in his huge shirt and her hair still damp against his neck.


	11. INTERIM MESSAGE

Hello, dear readers! This is Taiylor R. Wallace, the author of Snowdin Family and CORE Data. (And Adventure Time in Aaa if you remember that stuff!)

I just want to thank you lovely people for coming on the adventure with me. I'm really loving these stories and I'm so excited when I get feedback from you.

For CORE Data Readers:

This story can be a little strange because it has a separate prelude that can be read separately from the main story, and the Prelude chapters will be scattered through here and there, specifically marked as Prelude (Pre) chapters. Thus far there's 3 Prelude chapters and 2 Main chapters if I remember what I've written. You might not know what to expect from this story, but I can promise some shipping fluff from SansxFrisk (adult, of course), AlphysxUndyne, and MettatonxPapyrus. The story will probably shift between different main characters depending on the situation, but will usually sit around the main 'boss' monsters, Frisk, and Gaster.

I'd like to note that Sans and Papyrus' mother, Lucida Skjallar, is an original character. There are other incarnations of their mother as 'Arial,' but I wanted to use 'Lucida Sans' just for an excuse to say Sans is named after her.

If you'd like more information about this story and my artwork around it, please click HERE for my DeviantArt page. If you go into my gallery, you'll find folders labeled with the stories and art inside! Here's the CORE Data folder. You can also go straight to this picture, 'The Faces of Humantale' to see exactly what my versions of the characters look like and find their profiles in the description of the picture!

For Snowdin Family readers:

You guys get artsy love too! While I don't have a 'Faces of Human!Mobtale' yet, I do have a folder RIGHT HERE with all the chapters and some fluffy KittenxDon art, in order from newest to oldest.

Snowdin Family is definitely my baby right now and I find myself staying up way too late writing all the time, and I'm really looking forward to the next chapters! There isn't enough KittenxDon G out there, so here's my love letter to all you fellow shippers.

To ALL:

If you are or would like to join me on Deviantart, please consider following me there and here so you can get the story with all the artwork, and you can join my on my 'Year of Creativity' challenge where I draw something every single day for a year. Usually I finish whatever I sketch, and you can see that in my dA gallery. The stuff I'm most proud of is on my 'Featured' gallery page with my story cover art and the first chapters and the first Prelude chapter to CORE Data.

I do prefer the medium of Deviantart right now because I'm not much of a Tumblr person (I am on it, though) and FanFiction can be... limiting. I would've liked to be able to put a trigger warning on a recent chapter in Snowdin Family, but I don't really have a way to do that here. At least on dA I can hit the 'Mature Content' warning, and I can post all kinds of art there!

If you are interested in following my posts and my work, please consider the links below!

DeviantArt (TaiylorWallace)

FanFiction (TaiylorWallace)

Tumblr (Taiylor's Artbook)

Please do feel free to talk to me and leave reviews because I love hearing from you guys! I'm also taking Undertale-related free requests on DeviantArt if you like my style!

Goodbye, my loves!

-TRW


	12. Waylaid Pt11

The powerful kick of the new handgun was almost too much for Dr. William Gaster to handle, but his impeccable shooting form kept him steady and he heard a laugh from behind him even despite his hearing protection.

"I feel like someone just hit me in the chest with that shot," the voice chuckled. "What's that thing for, elephant hunting?"

"It is for exactly what every other gun is made for: to neutralize a target," Gaster muttered, laying the massive revolved down on the elbow rest after opening the chamber and taking out the single, huge casing. Tossing the empty casing to the person behind him, he picked up a much smaller snub-nose revolver. "If you want the thought process behind it, it's meant to make bullet-proof glass and riot shields useless. It will even punch through the door of an armored vehicle, and any sensible bullet vest will be shot clean through as if it wasn't even there."

"And that little one?"

"Based on the Derringer vest gun and the Colt .25, meant to be hidden and used as a last resort or in close conditions where a larger gun is simply too unwieldy. What it lacks in range, it makes up for in accuracy. It is by far the most accurate short-barrel, small arm I have ever created thanks to a new rifling process."

"You have names for these yet?"

"They're called what my guns have always been called: Cores, followed by the model and caliber.

"You know keeping that name makes some folks not want to buy them and associate with the Core Family."

"I don't care, Mr. Bryant. If they buy, they are associated no matter the name. The military and law enforcement have asked me hundreds of times to change the name to something unrelated to the Delta Families, but I have told them time and time again that they'll stop caring about the name when one of my weapons makes the difference between life and death. My weapons can accurately reach at least fifty meters further than their counterparts among other names. Even this little vest revolver could match any full-sized Glock for range."

"You seem very confident in your brand, sir."

"I am confident because I know people who buy guns want four simple things: quality, durability, power, and accuracy. I supply all of the above and create a better, more deadly weapon for the same price as lesser manufacturers. Of course a person who does their research will choose a Core over a silly Berretta."

"Didn't you work with Colt before, though?"

"Briefly. Which is why I certainly don't mind when some people choose the models I made, instead of my own line."

"Like your sons?"

"… Mr. Bryant, I will thank you not to bring up my personal life. This is a demonstration, not a gossip over brunch."

"Hey, now, is that any way to talk to a potential buyer? Mr. Russo wouldn't appreciate you treating his people like this."

"No, he wouldn't."

"So finish showing off your toys and we'll get this done."

"Indeed…" Gaster muttered, laying the little vest gun aside to pick up a revolver he'd laid far to the side. "This… is my own personal weapon. I never show my current arsenal outside my small circle of allies, but I can make an exception for you, Mr. Bryant."

"Good, Mr. Russo will appreciate that gesture."

"No, my dear sir, I don't think he will." Gaster turned, and with a flash of one emerald eye, the long, black barrel of the revolver barely touched the other man's forehead before the trigger slid back smoothly under Gaster's finger, and a deafening boom rang out across the private range. From the front, the man seemed fine until his eyes rolled back in his head, but a huge spray of gore scattered out across the dirt path and summer grass before he collapsed on the spot.

"Tch, inconsiderate…" Gaster muttered, noticing a tiny fleck of blood had gotten on his lab coat. He glanced around, but he knew no one had been around to see them. There were guards off in the distance inside a little station, but Russo had been foolish enough to send Bryant with only a driver to make a deal with Gaster.

Leaning down, Gaster fished around the inside of Bryant's jacket and vest until he found a little red address book and a wallet. He wasn't interested in the hundreds of dollars in the billfold. Instead, he took Bryant's driver's license and the address book full of names, numbers, places, and memos that Russo wouldn't have wanted anyone else to see.

Gathering up his guns in a long carrying case, Gaster neatly placed his vest gun on Bryant's chest. "For Mr. Russo. Consider it a gift of friendship." With that, the older man leisurely strode away.

…

By the time Gaster was settled back at his desk in the office connected to his lab and workshop, his knees were aching from arthritis and he had to figure out where he'd left his painkillers. When he couldn't find them around his desk drawers, he sighed and rose painfully to go to his phone on the wall. With a quick dial, he was answered in seconds.

"Sandra, dear... I hate to bother you, but I can't find my prescription-… Oh. Thank you, dear, you're the best." Gaster smiled ever so slightly and hung up, turning to where he'd hung up his jacket and finding the little pill box in the inside pocket just where his secretary had put it so he wouldn't forget them that morning.

With a glass of water and pills taken, Gaster pulled a chair up next to the phone, leaning on the table under it while flipping through the address book he'd taken from Russo's consigliere. Stroking his fine, dark goatee, Gaster considered the names carefully. Most he didn't know, but there were some worryingly familiar names here and there that only had a location written underneath, likely home or work addresses to plan out potential hits should Russo get annoyed with someone. Gaster found his own name too. 'William D. Gaster-Skjal- 748 Shale Ave., Venton.' That had been his old home some years ago, and the address now had a line through it. Gaster had built a home for himself above his workshop, but no one outside his closest allies knew it was actually his living quarters because almost no one had ever been up there.

He soon found a name and note that made him pause. 'Garrett R. Sans Skjal- 42 Main St, Snowdin, HQ 3rd Floor.' Papyrus was right after him. 'Papyrus N. Skjal- 149 Wire St, Snowdin, or w/Mettaton Taylor.' If Russo knew where they lived and worked, that meant Snowdin Headquarters was potentially unsafe if Papyrus' lookouts ever failed again. And if Russo knew he could get Mettaton and Blue Taylor and Papyrus all at once, and use the chaos to kill G, then everything in Snowdin would crash and burn.

Picking up the phone once again, Gaster dialed G's office and was quickly answered by the familiar voice of his consigliere. "Mr. Skjal's office, this is Miss Frisk."

"Kate, dear," Gaster spoke in his usual deep and calm tone. He and Kitten got along very well even if G and Gaster often butted heads. "Are you busy?"

"Hi, William. I've got time." Gaster had almost forgotten she was one of a handful of people who could get away with calling him by his first name. Even his friends just called him Gaster because he didn't much care for his name anymore and he certainly never went by 'Dr. Skjal.' That would make people confuse him with G.

"Are you aware that Russo knows where your two favorite bootlegging brothers live nowadays?"

"G and Papyrus? Yes, I assumed Russo knew."

"Really? And you're not bothered?"

"Not terribly."

"Do you really have that much confidence in Papyrus?"

"Yes, actually. Ever since the last incident, he's cracked down and I think he's doing just fine right now."

"… He has the Taylors' address too."

"That's… a little more worrying."

"I thought so."

"Do you think someone betrayed them?"

"It's a fairly recent entry in this little booklet, so I'd say yes, probably."

"Where did you get this information from?"

"Mr. Russo's consigliere was kind enough to lend me his address book."

"Oh, William, you didn't…"

"I can't wait to mail his ID back to his employer."

"William…" Kitten sighed, leaning on the wall beside G's office phone. Gaster was the kind of man that didn't hesitate to kill those who annoyed him. Unlike G, who would keep people up until they weren't useful anymore, Gaster would just outright blast an annoyance with his signature black long-barreled revolver, take their license, and walk away as if on a summer stroll. It was something Gaster had always done, taking thugs' ID cards and mailing them back to their bosses to let them know exactly who was responsible for the death. Gaster was a gentleman, but he could be very morbid sometimes.

"I called you up for something else too, dear."

"Yes?"

"I know I sent Papyrus away with a 'no' and Asgore after him, but I've changed my mind about joining in on the little truce with Forde and the others."

"What convinced you?"

"Well, not only is Garrett being awfully slow about this problem, I just really do not like Mr. Russo, my dear. And his consigliere was terribly rude. As you know, Russo and I have a bit of… history."

"I do know, but I thought you two were friends once."

"Once, yes. Then he decided to rig a trap for me to steal my research. And that, my dear, Kate, is why Garrett and I are rather… short-sighted these days."

"… Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"It wasn't very funny, I know."

"It sounds like typical Dr. Gaster's morbid humor. But I never realized Russo was the one responsible…"

Kitten only knew the barest details of how Gaster and G had gotten the scars on their faces. They were almost matching, except Gaster's were far deeper and had actually split his skull in two places while G had just been cut badly and lost the mismatched brown right eye. It had been some kind of sabotage, but Gaster had been closer to the source and thus suffered worse. Kitten knew that shortly after, a gunfight had erupted with men trying to finish the job, and G had barely escaped while Gaster was pinned an tortured, shot through the middle of both of his hands before his then-sixteen-year old son could come running back brandishing a Core automatic rifle.

"I would very much like to see Russo full of holes and drowning in his own blood, much like Mettaton has said."

"So would we. Especially for Andre."

"… Yes, my dear. _Especially_ for Andre…" Gaster's jaw unconsciously clenched.

"I'll let G know… Thank you, William. Having you with us means we won't have to rely so heavily on Forde."

"That was something else I'd considered… I know you in particular don't want to deal with that ruffian. I'll do my best to keep you from having to work with him, Kate."

"I appreciate it, more than I can tell you."

"No need. I'll let you go, dear. Have a lovely evening."

"And you, Will. Bye."

Kitten glanced over to G's desk once she hung the phone back on the hook. He'd forgotten his vest revolver after taking it apart to clean it. He was already long gone with his usual bodyguard entourage to go meet with Forde and pick up a large shipment of ammunition, but thankfully he'd heeded Kitten's worry and had taken extra men that Grey and Les had picked out. Kitten took the little gun and tucked it into a drawer for G to find later, then tidied up the desk surface before locking up the office for the evening. Normally on a Friday night like this, she and G would go out with the boys, but they had the meetup and Kitten had chosen not to go along. Instead, she dropped her things off in her apartment and pulled on her jacket, taking G's keys with her on the way out. She left a note on the kitchen counter for him, letting him know she was going out and taking his car.

Things were fairly calm and had been for months. Summer had given way to autumn, and then to early winter. The problem with Russo had proven very tricky with the man living so far from all of the Families. He had an early warning system and defenders that even impressed Asgore and his 'Peacemakers' led by Undyne. Any attempts to breach said defenses had ended terribly despite Forde's arsenal behind them and plenty of manpower. They would have to beat him with intelligence rather than brawn, but that required waiting for the right time. G hated it, knowing that every minute Russo remained alive, the chances grew of someone important getting killed again. Andre's death had rocked the Echo Family, but thankfully Mettaton already had a reputation and plenty of respect so it wasn't as bad as it could've been. If a completely new Don had taken over, they would've needed help to keep order until they gained widespread respect.

On the short drive to Grillby's, Kitten thought about poor Mettaton and Blue and how they'd had almost no time to grieve for their loss. Papyrus had done all he could to make things easier and he'd done wonders for them all things considered, but they hadn't been able to even attend Andre's funeral. Someone from New Home had been tipped off that a sniper was going to be waiting for Mettaton at the funeral home, and Mettaton was too gracious to Andre's other friends and family to postpone the funeral for his own sake. So Andre had been sent off without them. Blue could've gone if he'd wanted, as Russo didn't see the young and quiet man as any threat. No one did. But Blue had stayed home with Mettaton to comfort him and after, had begun learning from Papyrus how to organize and run a network of lookouts and guards while Mettaton ran the Family's business.

The Auburn slid ever so slightly on the slushy road when Kitten stopped at a red light before the turn down the last street toward Grillby's, and Kitten suddenly caught a rather suspicious sight coming down the sidewalk. It was just an average man in a long wool coat and a bowler hat, carrying what looked to be a trombone case with a large logo plastered across the front for some jazz band. But somehow, the scene didn't quite look right. Perhaps it was the way the man clipped a light pole with the case corner like he wasn't used to the size, or the way he seemed unsure how to balance it, like one end was too heavy. He crossed the street in front of Kate, heading… toward HQ.

Perhaps she was just paranoid. Perhaps this was a musician who was just a little tipsy from a couple drinks while performing at a nearby speakeasy. Perhaps he had something else in his case alongside his instrument that made one end heavier and he just wasn't used to it. But if Kitten dismissed everything as coincidence, her Don would've been dead the first year she'd worked for him.

Rounding the block rather than turning to Grillby's, Kitten kept out of the man's sight and got back to HQ, parking the Auburn in an alley off the back lot out of sight while she went around to the side of the warehouse to watch and wait. She pulled a compact mirror from her jacket pocket, something she never actually used except in these very 'blending-in' situations, and she pretended to touch up her foundation when, as she'd feared, the man appeared around the corner. Putting on a relieved face at seeing a passerby, she hurried up to the man after tucking the mirror away. "Excuse me, sir," she asked, taming her usual cold and neutral expression into something more friendly and sweetening her voice.

"Uh… yeah? Can I help you?" He asked as if startled out of some deep inner thoughts.

"Do you know where Mr. Garrett Skjal's office is? I'm supposed to meet his secretary for my employer." Seeing the man's barely-detectable flinch at the name, Kitten knew for absolute certain that she'd caught a man out to kill the Don, and she caught the glimmer of a pin under the edge of his lapel. It was golden. Russo's men wore gold pins.

"Um… y-yeah. You, uh… found it." He motioned toward the huge warehouse and office block behind her. "I'm here to… meet her too." That gave Kitten pause. Was he actually there for her? And how stupid could Russo have been to send someone without showing them what she looked like first?

Kitten kept up the act. "Then I guess we'll walk up together." When he offered his arm, trying to feign being a gentleman, Kitten made herself loop an arm about his elbow and she gave him a friendly smile. She only hoped they wouldn't run into anyone who'd blow her cover.

They walked together toward the building, but when the stranger bypassed the front door, Kitten's brows furrowed. "Sir? Isn't that it?"

"There's another entrance, close to the elevator. I've got a bad ankle right now."

"Oh… you've been here before?"

"More or less." That was worrying, if he knew the HQ's layout. Russo must've found a way to get the building's blueprints. But when the man passed by the very door he'd mentioned, Kitten knew something was very wrong and he noticed when her step faltered. "You comin', lady?"

"Are you sure it's not that door there?"

"Yep." Kitten stopped completely then, but before she could even begin to reach into her jacket, she was staring straight down a black metal barrel. Shit. Of course. How could she have been so naïve to think Russo would send someone unprepared? He'd sent an experienced actor with all the information he needed to fool one of G's closest people. And Kitten had just been fooled.

"Hiya, Miss Frisk," he muttered, his voice as grim as his exhausted expression. "Lucky you saw me at the stoplight. Come on, we're gonna take the Don's car for a spin. I've always wanted to ride in a beautiful car like that."

Kitten didn't budge at first, fixing the man with an icy glare. The gun barrel pressed against her forehead and the man sighed. "Don't pull the stubborn act. I'll be happy to let you skip merrily off to your Don once you give me a little information." When Kitten didn't respond, the man rolled his eyes. "Fucking typical… boss said you'd be a hardass." A sudden impact to the side of her head made everything go hazy as Kitten slumped to the ground. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she cursed herself for walking into the alley with this man in the winter twilight where she couldn't be certain one of Papyrus' men would see them. The question remained as to whether or not they'd see the man take her away to the Auburn where she'd foolishly parked it out of sight. Apparently they didn't because Kitten felt the soft leather backseat beneath her when the stranger placed her inside, and the world went black.


	13. No Man's Land Pt12

" _What do you mean they didn't fucking see anything?!"_

"Brother, whoever it was knew exactly where the blind spots are-"

 _"Why the fuck are there blind spots, Papyrus?! I thought you had the place locked down for four blocks in every direction!"_

"I do! I did… I… goddammit…"

 _"Find her, little brother. Find my Kitten_ now _."_

"I've got everyone on-" Papyrus paused when he heard the other line hang up. Putting his office phone back on the hook, he ran his fingers back through his messy dark hair with a growl of frustration. Who could've possibly gotten past all their security? All their defenses and lookouts and guards? How could a woman like Kate Frisk get kidnapped right outside Snowdin Family's own fucking HQ?

The radio on his desk, tuned to the usual emergency station, crackled to life. "Beta-4 to dispatch. Come in, dispatch."

 _"Dispatch here, Beta-4, go ahead,"_ Papyrus heard the smooth voice of one of his three dispatchers answer.

 _"Dispatch, we've got the Don's vehicle. Pinedale, west end, alley on the south end of Tussard Deli, corner of Hagar and Nash."_

 _"Command, you hear that?"_ the dispatcher asked, and Papyrus picked up the microphone.

"Command here. I heard. Close off the area and send over all nearby teams. Do not, I repeat, do NOT engage without my order."

 _"Affirmative, sir. Putting out the call now."_

Papyrus left the radio aside to pick up the phone again, not looking forward to hearing G yell at him again even if Papyrus believed he deserved it for letting someone slip between the cracks. When no one answered after two tries, Papyrus grew worried and instead called the warehouse supervisors' office.

 _"Skjal Shipping, supervisor's office. Gaines here."_

"Mark, it's Papyrus. Do you know where Sans is?"

 _"He just walked out with his boys, sir. Hold on, I see Doggo, I'll catch him for you."_ After about a minute, Doggo picked up.

 _"Papyrus, I don't have time. We heard you on Kate's radio. The Don's headed to Pinedale."_ In the background, Papyrus could hear Les yell for Doggo.

"Stop him!" Papyrus demanded. "Don't let him leave til I get over there!" Papyrus didn't wait for Doggo's reply, hanging up and sprinting out of his office with only a second spared to grab his jacket and hat. By the time he got down out of the building across from HQ and into the back lot, he saw Doggo trying to hold G up with mild success.

"Get in here," G snapped at Papyrus when he saw him, ducking into the passenger seat of the four-door Wolfe had brought around. Doggo got in the back and Papyrus was beside him in seconds. Les, Grey, Jeremy, and Rissa were in a similar car right behind them, and Wolfe led the way at top speed out of Snowdin.

Papyrus listened to the distinct sound of G checking his Colt .45 magazines and his .25 that he'd picked up from the office when he'd returned to find Kitten missing. A quick call to Grillby and then to Toriel proved she hadn't gone to any of her usual places, and then guards had mentioned seeing her come back, but hadn't seen where she or the car had gone after she drove into the back lot and down a side alley where the car was just out of sight.

"Sans… I-"

"I don't want to hear it," G growled under his breath.

"Give him a break, boss. It's not his-"

"Doggo. Not right now."

The ride remained silent after that, only broken here and there by G nervously unloading and reloading his Colt magazines. Pinedale was more than an hour away, and it was unfamiliar territory at the best of times. Considered 'no-man's land' between Snowdin and Streamtown along the southern coast, Pinedale was a fairly dangerous port city where the underground was cutthroat and completely unforgiving, run by bloodthirsty, warring gangs that were too small and too anarchical to be proper Families like Don G's people.

When the two cars pulled into a parking lot across from the alley where the Auburn had been found, G immediately bolted across the street to see if he could find any evidence of Kitten around the car. When he opened up one of the back doors, his breath caught in his throat to see Kitten's jacket and vest abandoned along with her guns, her shoes and socks, and even the knife she kept secretly in the lining of her shirt. Whoever had taken her had forced her out barefoot in only one layer of clothing in the freezing snow. A small droplet of blood on the leather seat made G's temper flare and he snatched up Kitten's shoes and guns, running down the alley without a thought for himself.

"Boss!"

"Brother, no!" He heard the voices fade behind him, but he didn't care as he dodged into the labyrinth of alleys. Papyrus tried to follow, but it was impossible to find G's footprints among the many tracks left by homeless folk and thugs traversing the back alleyways. An awful feeling sunk into the pit of Papyrus' stomach when he stopped at a four-way split of alleys, and he turned around to look at the men behind him with a terrified, lost expression. Pinedale was an old city, one that had many strange twists and turns and secret spaces between massive blocks of buildings. They'd lost G in a matter of seconds.

…

When Kitten finally came to again, she felt something cold pressed to the side of her head. She remembered having been moved from the Auburn to the back of a van, but any faces she'd seen were shadowed and hazy. The moment she'd tried to move, someone had seized her by the throat. Too weak to fight and with her hands bound by a her own belt, she had passed out shortly.

Opening her eyes, Kitten flinched away from the sight of a gun right in front of her face. It was a sub-machine gun, and it wasn't aimed at her, just hanging from a strap on the shoulder of a man standing before her. She was in some massive building, probably a warehouse. She had been laid on someone's jacket on a low, long crate, and a man in grey slacks and a darker grey vest was standing watch over her. Oh, wait… was it the same man who'd caught her…? No, she thought. His hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail, not shorn like the other man. Perhaps they were brothers.

Her slight movement made the man lay a hand on his gun, glancing down at her. He didn't seem to care that she was awake, and his gaze returned to something off in the dark. Kitten craned her neck to look, and she could see a dirty window above a wooden table, looking out into a huge pavement lot. At least five cars were parked outside, and one more had just driven up. Glancing around her surroundings, an icy feeling of dread suddenly seized Kitten's normally-fearless heart. She knew this place. It was Forde's warehouse between Snowdin and Streamtown. Why did Russo's man bring her to-… Oh. The dread turned to terror at the implications before her. She could only hope Russo had taken over the warehouse, and Forde hadn't-

A door slid open with a metallic screech. "Ah, now… Where's my Kitty?" Kitten's eyes squeezed shut and all the panic G had carefully fielded after her last encounter with Forde came rushing back in.

"Got her, boss," the man beside her answered with some boredom in his voice. "Little brother left the Auburn in Pinedale, sent her over with an ammo delivery."

"Fantastic, amazing!" Forde praised excitedly. "You two are getting a bonus first thing tomorrow."

"Aw, thanks, boss."

"Sure, sure, now… You're free. Go on home, get some sleep. We'll have plenty to do tomorrow. No weekends off for us, I'm afraid."

"Yes, sir." The tall man stepped away and Kitten started when a hand came up to touch her head near the cold pack.

"Huh. Sorry you got a goose-egg there, Kitty baby, but my boys know not to mess around when it comes to you. At least Jano was nice enough to put something on it." Kitten wouldn't open her eyes, but she was trembling uncontrollably. Between her heart beating far too fast and her chest squeezing too tightly in fear, she was just trying to breathe and think logically about her situation beyond the panic.

"The least you could do is talk to me," Forde insisted, his usual cheerful tone faltering. "Aw, come on, babe. Don't be so scared. You're here for safety." When her eyes opened, even if they didn't look up at him, he grinned. "I just want to keep you safe while Russo does his thing."

Forde got down on his knees to come into her view and he gave her a charming, handsome, unsettling smile. She'd once been naïve enough to think he was attractive when she was seventeen, perhaps a fun distraction on the weekends after a long week working for the Don. He'd been fantastic for her unpredictable hormones, and he'd been in a similar position being only a year older than her. Forde had been the most energetic partner she'd ever known, always willing to get out of any obligation to come and tumble into bed with her, neither caring much about dinner or drinks first. And then, he'd gotten obsessed.

"Earth to Kitty," Forde murmured, his smile growing when her eyes finally focused on his. "Hiya, baby. What say you we get out of here, maybe get something to eat? You've been out all night, I bet. But if you wanna go home and just sleep some more, I'm game."

"What's Russo planning?" Kitten dared to speak, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"What _was_ he planning, you mean. I don't really know, but it's probably over now. Come on, I'll even carry you if you want."

"Arnold," Kitten muttered, making Forde pause. "What did you do…? Where's Garrett?"

"I dunno, Kitty."

"You said you'd help us get rid of Russo…"

"I still will, but Russo's helping me do something important right now. It's a pretty good deal."

"What deal…?" Kitten lifted her head slowly. "You… you didn't…"

"Sorry, babe. But the old man wasn't exactly good for us."

"… Us?" Kitten slowly sat up, her eyes never leaving Forde's. Her expression had grown blank and Forde wasn't sure what that meant.

"Yeah, us." Forde sat back on his knees to give her another handsome grin. "You're my girl. Even if I have to send brutes to get you, I gotta take care of my lady."

"What did Russo do?" Kitten murmured, her tone so empty that Forde's brows furrowed in confusion.

"That's not important right now, Kitty. What's important is you're here with me."

All of the panic in her system had subsided, and her expression was neutral, even peaceful as she reached out her bound hands to touch Forde's cheek. His smile grew soft and he reached up to untie the belt that held her wrists tight together. When the leather fell to the floor, Kitten's fingers smoothed back through Forde's hair and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. That was the precise moment Kitten's nails dug into his scalp, forcing his head down to connect with the knee she forced up. A satisfying crack greeted her, and she was ready for it when Forde suddenly threw her from her seat on the crate with a roar of pain and rage. She rolled expertly and bolted back at him, forcing her shoulder into his chest when he looked up, and she slammed him to the concrete floor. Blood had begun draining from his broken nose, but he couldn't pay it any mind when he caught Kitten's hands reaching for the famously powerful Magnum on his hip. The awkward angle made it hard for her to pull out, and that bought him the extra second he needed to jerk her hands away.

"You little _bitch!_ " He snarled, overpowering her easily. Overbalancing Kitten, he was able to roll and pin her on her back. His blood streamed down his face and neck and chest, a few droplets falling to Kitten's chest and neck and blooming on the white dress shirt. Straddling her waist and forcing her wrists to the floor, Forde yelled out suddenly across the warehouse toward the still-open door. "Someone get the fuck over here!"

Two burly men came sprinting in, grabbing Kitten by the arms and forcing her onto her stomach, one placing a knee across the back of her own knees so she couldn't kick at them. Forde stumbled to his feet, trying to stem the flow of blood with his sleeve. "You fucking… goddammit, Kitten!"

"Don't you dare call me that!" She snarled, still struggling even when it was hopeless. "Don't you ever call me that, you son of a bitch! You traitor!"

"You know what, Kitty? Fuck you, I fucking saved you! If I'd let them lure you and your fucking sugar daddy into Pinedale together, you'd both be dead right now!"

"In your dreams, you worthless piece of shit! Russo couldn't kill him the first time, and he didn't do it last night either!"

"I think fifty men with tommy-guns and ten snipers will do the fucking job, babe," Forde growled back, his anger becoming more annoyance at this point. Kitten didn't want to hear it, fighting harder against the two men but to no avail. Even if G had been shot, he or the boys were looking for her. She knew it. She had to believe it. Arnold Forde was nothing but a liar, trying to break her so she'd forget her man and settle for Forde again. He tried to make himself out to be her savior, kidnapping her so she didn't get caught up in the crossfire, if it was even true that there had been a trap. Snowdin Family was coming for her. They had to be.


	14. Stalemate Pt13

"You got it, boss?"

"Yeah… I got it. Go look after your little brothers."

G sat back against the brick wall with a shuddering sigh, keeping a hand pressed over the bloody hole in his left arm. Shreds of his vest had been made into a temporary bandage after Wolfe had cut it into strips with a pocketknife. But G had gotten off easy. The Broadmoore brothers were all shot in much worse places, and none of them had seen Papyrus, Jeremy, Rissa, or Doggo after the hail of bullets through the trees had caused them to scatter. They didn't want to risk calling out and giving away their hiding places. Wolfe was quietly sneaking around their little area to care for his brothers and the Don, ignoring the bullet lodged in his hip in favor of making sure they were okay. Grey was in danger of bleeding to death, a bullet having clipped the artery in his left leg. Thankfully Les, despite two shots to the right arm, had reacted quickly enough to get a makeshift tourniquet and pressure on Grey's thigh.

They'd been pinned down for an hour now and Grey wasn't doing well. They'd regrouped in Pinedale after searching all night, and Papyrus had been so relieved to see a trap hadn't been sprung on G, only for a poor rifle shot to rip into Papyrus' shoulder just above the collarbone, causing them to flee all at once back to the cars. They took the Auburn and the two other vehicles, and were pursued out of the city into the woods until a nasty pothole destroyed an axel on one of the black cars. Unwilling to leave his people behind, G had stopped the Auburn and Wolfe hit the brakes on his own car. Bullets shredded the cars' tires and they'd all fled into the woods, and several dozen gunners shot after them, forcing them to split up.

G was exhausted, in pain, and worried for his people, but Kitten was at the forefront of his mind, and what Russo might've done with her. He dared to peer out from the little hollow he'd hidden in, covered by a huge wall of roots and soil. He could see no one, but he knew where the Broadmoore brothers were, Wolfe having moved them all.

The little crunch of snow on his opposite side had the Don whipping around, lifting his Colt .45 to find Papyrus in his sights. "Brother," he whispered, freezing in his tracks.

"Get over here," G growled, pulling Papyrus down to sit beside him. "Wolfe and his brothers are nearby. Where are the others?"

"I have no idea. I saw Doggo hit, but I couldn't get back to him. And I heard Rissa scream…"

"Me too…" G sighed, remembering how his blood had run cold in the midst of the panic at the sound.

"I managed to get back to the car," Papyrus offered, showing G that he'd gotten a radio.

"Are you fucking insane? For that?!"

"Shhh… It's a police scanner, and we're close enough to a tower than I can get a message out."

"Goddammit, Papyrus, don't you ever do that again. I'm already worried about going to six funerals for the others. Don't make it seven."

"We'll get them out of here, brother." Papyrus flicked on the radio, glancing out and around them before he dared raise his voice at all to be heard over the crackle. "Break, Emergency. I repeat, emergency."

Within seconds, someone answered. _"Pinedale Weather Station Five, here. We receive you, state your callsign and emergency."_

"Callsign Sierra-One. Station Five, I need an autopatch immediately. Can you do that?"

 _"Sierra-One, what is the nature of your emergency?"_

"That's classified, Station Five. Lives at risk. Can you autopatch or not?"

 _"… Affirmative, Sierra-One. Clearly sound off the number."_

"One, eight, seven. One, nine, one. Six, six, nine, nine."

 _"Patching you through."_

"Thank Christ," G muttered, listening for when the radio would connect to the Station Five phone line and reach Mettaton's home number. At a quiet crackle and a click, a voice came through.

 _"Ugh… Hello…?"_

"Mettaton! Mettaton, listen very carefully," Papyrus spoke as clearly and loudly as he dared.

 _"Papyrus? Are you on radio?"_

"Listen. We're pinned down north of Pinedale, I need you to give our coordinates to my boys at HQ."

 _"Of course, of course darling, let me… get a piece of paper… Okay, go."_

"Forty-six degrees, thirty-two minutes, fifty-one point two-nine seconds North."

 _"Got it."_

"Eighty-seven degrees, twenty-three minutes, forty-four point one-three seconds West."

 _"Okay. Blue!"_ Mettaton called away from the phone, Blue's voice soon answering. _"Get on the second phone line, call Olen and give him these coordinates, tell him to send firepower to rescue Papyrus and G's boys!"_

"Mettaton?" Papyrus asked after a moment of silence.

 _"We'll get you out safe and sound, sweetie, I promise!"_

"Mettaton…" G felt a tug at his heart watching Papyrus' expression relax into something a little… forlorn. Worried. Papyrus wasn't the sort to get disheartened or scared, but G could see fear and insecurity etched on his little brother's face.

 _"… Yes, Papyrus?"_ Mettaton's voice softened in return.

"If, um… if things go wrong…"

 _"No, don't even think about it, darling! We-"_

"If I don't make it out, will you promise me something?"

 _"… Of course, love..."_

"Will you take care of Sans and Kate for me? There's no one else I'd trust their safety with."

"Papyrus," G muttered, reaching out with his injured arm to touch Papyrus' shoulder.

 _"If that ever happens, Papy darling… I promise you I'll keep them safe."_

"That makes me feel a lot better… Thanks, M…"

 _"Don't you dare take that as permission to die!"_

"No, never. We have a dinner date tonight. I'm going to take you to that fancy new place out on Fuller Avenue."

 _"Oh, Papyrus… I look forward to it, honey. I hear they have great spaghetti. But not as good as yours, I bet."_

"We'll have to see, won't we? … I have to go, we have to move in case they heard me… I love you."

 _"And I love you, Papy dear. You just make sure you bring everyone home, and we'll all go out to Grillby's next weekend."_

"It's a date. See you soon."

When Papyrus turned the radio off to avoid Station Five asking any more questions, he sighed and rose up to his knees. "Come on, Sans… if they're anywhere nearby, they could've heard me."

"Yeah… I'm coming." G didn't make comment about what he'd heard between Papyrus and Mettaton, but if he'd ever had a doubt that the two loved each other, he didn't anymore after that exchange.

The two slipped away from their position to a little cluster of trees, and Papyrus left G briefly to help the others move as well. A volley of shots made G's chest tighten, but when he didn't hear anyone collapse or any sounds of pain, he trusted that his people were okay. Worry for the missing three nagged at his mind, but he knew he had to get the Broadmoores and Papyrus out before he tried to search for anyone else. For the moment, all they could really do was wait for the backup to arrive.

After another half-hour, a shout rang through the forest. "Don! Don, listen up! Mr. Russo just wants you!" When G didn't answer, the voice continued. "You think we don't keep tabs on the radio? We called more backup. Your little friends are gonna walk into a wall of guns unless you come out here! One bullet and all the people you care about can go home!"

"I've just got one question," G finally called out in a growl, both his guns at the ready despite how it hurt to use his wounded arm at all.

"Then ask it!"

"Where's my Kitten?"

"Your what?"

"Kate Frisk, where the fuck is she?!"

"Mr. Russo made a deal with the Townsends. Forde promised to lure you into Pinedale if he could keep her alive despite Mr. Russo's plans to get her too," the voice explained honestly, and a new wave of anger washed over the Don.

"What's your name, kid?" G called back to the voice, his hands shaking with anger and clutching his twin Colts in a death grip.

"Daniel Ziek."

"Well, Daniel, I'd radio in your last will to your boss, because none of you fucking bastards are walking out of these woods."

"Big words for a dead man, Don!"

"Save me the villain monologue, kid. Just sit tight and we'll get this done in time for lunch." G could hear voices discussing then, trying to sort out a plan to get this over with before the Echo and Snowdin Families showed up. G and his people changed positions a few times in the next couple of hours, trying to keep away as long as possible and buy Mettaton time to find them.

When they heard gunfire in the far distance, G almost sighed in relief. It was time to get this over with. G had to get out of there and find Kitten. He didn't care about Russo right now, only Kitten, and destroying Forde.

 _"Papy darling! The cavalry is here!"_ Mettaton's voice rang across the forest, and G had to snort in amusement. He didn't have to see it to know Mettaton was probably standing in a circle of heavily-armed men, brandishing his signature twin magenta pistols while his men mowed down the enemy. Les whooped in excitement and support, but none of them dared to poke their heads out and help just yet.

The hail of gunfire made bark burst off the trees here and there, a few branches even coming down once weakened. Men in sleek black coats came charging through the woods to try to set up a line of defense so G and his people could get out safely. A few of those runners were shot down, but soon they dug in and made a line between G and the attackers. That allowed G to gather the Broadmoore brothers and Papyrus and slip to different, more secure cover near the forest road. The firefight lasted only five minutes and while there were casualties on both sides, Mettaton's sheer numbers and superior weapons ripped through Russo's men far faster until some began to throw out their weapons and surrender. Luckily for them, Mettaton honored his late cousin's policy of showing mercy to those who gave up. Their luck would've been dubious otherwise considering just how thoroughly pissed off Mettaton was.

When Russo's men fled further away, G's crew finally dared to creep out toward the road. Grey couldn't make it out without help, so they left him in cover for the moment until a car could come out and get them. There was still no sign of Doggo, Rissa, or Jeremy.

Mettaton and a team of gunners came trotting down the road toward them once G managed to signal some of the other Snowdin fighters that had arrived with the Echo Family. "Papyrus!" Mettaton cried desperately, breaking away from the pack at a full sprint.

"I'm okay!" Papyrus called back with a huge, silly grin on his face. He was relieved, but more than that, he usually melted at the sight of Mettaton anyway. Papyrus took a few steps away from G and the others, holstering one of his two guns. But just as he withdrew his hand from the shoulder holster, a shot rang out from just behind G.

The Don winced away, feeling the awful bullet rip past, only grazing his already-shot arm. He, Wolfe, and Les all whipped around, firing almost in unison at a terrified man that had dared come out of cover for one last shot at the Don. Two bullets in the chest and one through his right eye put him down on the spot, and his body rolled into the ditch.

" _PAPYRUS!_ " G's heart felt like it stopped beating when he looked back around at the sound of Mettaton's scream, and found Papyrus on the ground, clutching his belly. Blood was blooming across the back of his jacket and the front of his shirt. The bullet, only tearing through G's flesh and nothing with any stopping power, had carried on and struck Papyrus and G was suddenly petrified his brother might've been shot in the spine.

He was so stunned that he couldn't even move before Mettaton and Les reached Papyrus. Les immediately put pressure on the back entry wound and Papyrus let out a groan of agony despite trying to do the same with the exit wound. His hands were too shaky and his strength sapped, so it was Mettaton, collapsing to his knees beside Papyrus, who came to the rescue. G took a step forward, but his mind just wouldn't catch up. His little brother had been shot. Papyrus wasn't supposed to get hit. He'd never been shot before. The worst he'd ever suffered was a broken arm when some thug swung a bat at him, and G had put three bullets in the offender's chest for it.

"I'm… I'm okay… I'm okay…" Papyrus repeated quietly to Mettaton once he could catch his breath. "You're always right on time..."

"Oh, sweetheart…" Mettaton murmured, tears rolling down his cheeks. Despite the fear and the pain, Papyrus was trying to make everyone feel better, as he always did. "How can you say that right now?"

"I'll be fine," Papyrus assured him. "Look… I can even stand up…"

"No, no! Papyrus, don't move!" Mettaton begged, trying to hold him down when he twisted to pick himself up.

"Pap…" G murmured, finally able to kneel by him and place a hand on his shoulder. That made Papyrus pause.

"… Brother?" The look Papyrus gave him made G's heart absolutely shatter. He had that stupid grin, weak as it was now, and his eyes were alight with good humor and cheer. He was always stupidly happy and positive.

"I'm gonna give you a few weeks off, little brother… Make sure, once you feel up to it, you take your man out to dinner. I think he deserves it…"

"But we're going out tonight… Right, M?"

Mettaton almost couldn't answer, hiding his face against Papyrus' neck while still keeping pressure on the awful wound. "Th-that's right, angel… I'll wear that suit you like so much…"

"That'll be nice," Papyrus muttered, pressing a weak kiss to Mettaton's temple before letting his head rest against the icy ground. His blood had stained the snow around them, but it was the blood from G's arm that he actually noticed. "Brother…"

"I'm okay, Pap," G assured him softly. "Nothing new for me. You just hold on… and stay awake. We need you around here."

"Of course… the Great Papyrus never misses work, or a date…" G glanced up as a car came to a halt beside them and men stepped out to help get Papyrus in. Two took over keeping pressure on the bullet wound while Mettaton got into the back seat where they would lay Papyrus so that he could continue holding the pressure on the way to the hospital. Laying on his back would be enough to deal with the entry wound. When Papyrus groaned at being lifted, G could only watch helplessly.

"I know it hurts, sweetheart," Mettaton spoke through tears as Papyrus' head and shoulders were laid in his lap. A vest offered by one of the Echo men was placed over Papyrus' stomach to help stem the blood flow, and then two others gave their jackets to cover him up as he was beginning to shiver. G watched the door close and the car pull away, and he was left standing among his men, defended on all sides by Echo and Snowdin members.

Why Papyrus, of all people? And why, of all places, the middle of the forest where it'd be a race against time and luck to get him to a hospital? Why that sweet little brother who only ever did his best? He and his men had saved G so many times that G began to feel suddenly guilty that he'd yelled at the younger man for failing to save Kitten. He'd been outsmarted. They all had.

"Boss…?" Wolfe's voice asked quietly, pulling him from his dark thoughts to see all the men and women around him from Echo and Snowdin were looking at him, waiting for orders.

"We're with you, sir," one Echo member who'd given up his jacket spoke up.

"… Finish off Russo's men, round up any prisoners… And find my people. Doggo, Jeremy, and Rissa are all missing…"

"What about Miss K?" Les dared to ask quietly.

"You boys just worry about yourselves right now. Echo Family might've been the cavalry, but I'm going to get the fucking heavy artillery…"


	15. INTERIM MESSAGE 2: TRIGGER WARNING

Hiya, dear readers! I hate to interrupt with another interim message, but I feel like I ought to be considerate and warn you about some pretty heavy stuff coming up.

On Saturday, a chapter will be posted titled 'Wait.' You'll notice the submission has !TRIGGER! in the title. This is for a Trigger Warning related to rape and abuse. If you are bothered by these subjects, please skip the section with Kitten and Forde toward the end of the chapter. There are no gritty details but I go right up to the edge.

If you are not bothered by these subjects, please be considerate of others and do not make light of the issue or ask why they're bothered, or get into discussions about the issues.

Thank you for your patience! There will be one chapter between now and then called 'Buttons' that'll probably give you a good idea of what's coming.

Love you, and I hope you enjoy the story! I have chapters lined up every day til next Friday!

-TRW


	16. Buttons Pt14

William Gaster had never lost his temper in public. He was the calmest, most cool-headed man that his associates knew. Any annoyance was shown in the form of a speeding bullet, but Gaster's expression never changed nor did he ever raise his voice. His posture was always perfect and his voice was quiet and almost gentle no matter how kind or cruel he was in the moment.

When Gaster's meeting with his top people was interrupted by his consigliere's assistant, Gaster's expression remained neutral despite how he'd once told the girl that under no circumstances should such important meetings ever be interrupted unless there was an imminent emergency.

The young woman timidly opened the door to the large conference room and poked her head in. "Excuse me… Dr. Gaster?"

Every head in the room turned toward her, and the girl nearly jumped at the purely empty expression on Gaster's face. "Yes, Ellie?" He asked while his consigliere Sandra stood to remove the girl if she didn't have a good excuse to be interrupting.

"Sir, you have a call-"

"A call? You interrupted a classified-" Gaster reached up to touch Sandra's arm and she paused, looking from Ellie to Gaster.

"Who is it, dear?" Gaster asked, standing from his seat.

"Your son, sir, Mr. Skjal. He says it's an emergency, but he wouldn't tell me why."

"Well, Sans never calls unless he has to. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," Gaster nodded to the quiet group before stepping out into Sandra's office where the two secretary desks waited. The door shut behind him, and through the glass they could all see Ellie pick up the phone and hand over to Gaster before he dismissed her and she left the room.

Gaster's calm visage slowly melted away, and he grew tense, leaning forward to place a hand on Sandra's desk to support himself. Even if the people in the conference room couldn't hear the conversation, they knew something terrible had happened when Gaster put the phone down and practically threw open the door again, his one emerald eye blazing with fury.

"All of you," his voice snarled quietly. "Get a team of five each, your absolute best, and raid my personal armory. We're going for a drive."

"What happened, Doctor?" One woman dared to ask while everyone stood from their seats.

"My little boy is dying… his older brother has been shot twice… and our Kitten has been taken away. Ladies and gentlemen, I want blood."

…

…

…

"Feeling better, babe?" An unwelcome, sickly-sweet voice pulled Kitten from her dark thoughts as she tried to pretend to sleep. As long as she pretended to be tired and hurt, Forde would let her be. He wanted so badly to get back into her good graces that she could use it to her advantage and keep him at bay a little longer. It'd already been two days, and there was no sign that anyone had come for her yet. And now, her ruse was growing obvious as she had kept fidgeting, unable to get comfortable in the sickeningly familiar bed.

Kitten didn't answer Forde, turning her head away from him. He'd taken her to his own home- a huge flat on the top floor of an old factory that served as the Townsend HQ in Streamtown, though they had other command centers elsewhere. While she'd never been in Forde's flat, she knew the bed. It was the same mattress and the same blanket that had been in his cheap, tiny apartment in Echo when they'd still been attached. She didn't know why he'd kept the old thing, but then again, Forde wasn't a fan of change, not even change for the better.

"Aw, come on, Kate," Forde sighed. "You're really gonna hate me for saving you?"

"… Saving me?" Kitten muttered, her eyes opening to stare at the white wall beside her.

"If I hadn't done anything, you'd be dead in a ditch somewhere by now."

"I would have been with Garrett."

"And _dead_ , Kitten."

"Don't..." Kitten snapped her head around to fix him with the most deadly glare. "Don't you ever call me that. I've already told you twice."

"And yet I'm allowed to call you Kitty," Forde huffed.

"If I had my way, you wouldn't call anyone anything. You'd be in a shallow grave in the fucking swamp." The venom in her voice was palpable. Forde didn't take too kindly to such a threat.

"I'd watch that mouth of yours, Kate. It could get you in serious trouble." His voice was a low growl that made her stomach clench in nervousness, but Kitten's heart reacted faster than her good judgement.

"Fuck you, Forde, just fuck you," she snarled, and she knew to pull back immediately so he didn't quite catch her when his arm shot out toward the front of her shirt. She caught him off-guard by rolling into him and he was knocked over while she landed on her feet and made a dash across the room. The single second the door bolt held her up was enough for her captor to catch her around the waist, and she struggled desperately to elbow him in the gut and the face, her nails raking at his arms until she froze altogether feeling a metal object pressed to her temple. That huge Magnum revolver was poised to end everything for Kitten, and she slowly released Forde's arm.

"You won't do it," she growled with disgust. "I know you, Arnold. You like your toys too much to destroy them. Especially me."

"But sweet Kitty, you're not a toy," Forde murmured calmly despite the struggle they'd just had. "You're a beautiful woman and one hell of a show in and out of bed. But I'm sure I could find another pretty lady with some experience if I wanted to. I just think you're special and I'd hate to waste a mind like that."

"Why do you keep coming back?" Kitten demanded quietly. "We're done. We've been done from the second you threatened me that first time. I have a better man waiting for me, one that treats me like an equal and not a goddamned trophy."

"Is that what you hate me for? For putting you on a pedestal? For trying to tell the world that I have the most wonderful girl in the world?"

"Had. And I'm not some county fair blue ribbon that you can show off."

"Have," Forde reminded her, the gun pressing a little tighter to her head.

"Had," Kitten growled low. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his finger suddenly squeeze the trigger, and she flinched and shut her eyes against imminent death.

 ** _Klack!_**

The sound of a gun hammer hitting metal hurt her ears, but nothing happened. Forde chuckled, letting go of Kitten and stepping back, lowering the gun. "Come on, babe. You'd have to do a lot worse than rough me up and toss some names at me. Shit, that was a typical Friday night for us and we wouldn't get a wink of sleep!"

Kitten glanced back at him, and she dared to pull the bolt back on the door. He only grinned at her sadistically, and she knew then that even if she got out of the building, she was trapped. His men would get her if she went too far. And Forde wasn't above shooting her in the leg to stop her. He'd done it before.

Kitten finally turned to face Forde fully, and she crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "Fine. I'm patient."

"And what you do think you're waiting for?" Forde laughed. "Skjal? He's fucking dead, or staring down a barrel in Russo's basement being drilled for information about the other families. Are you waiting for Asgore or Mettaton? Or maybe even that incompetent idiot who calls himself a lookout? Newsflash for you, baby, you're stuck. Mettaton's sitting in the hospital with your man's little brother, watching him die. Asgore's fighting a goddamned army of Russo's men. None of them are coming."

"If I ever believed anything you said, I would've wound up here a lot sooner," Kitten told him dryly, and Forde shrugged.

"Okay, fine. Keep faith in your friends. I'll be glad to console you when it all crumbles in your hands."

"I don't need faith. I have cold, hard facts to base my beliefs upon. Like the fact that every man and woman G works with in any of the Families, would give anything for a chance to kill you. And I'm the perfect excuse, considering I respect them and they respect me."

"Oh, you're normally respectful? Gee, that'd be a fucking sight," Forde sighed as he turned away, unworried about showing his back to Kitten.

"What do you even want with me, Forde?" Kitten finally asked, remaining beside the door while he flopped down on his sofa, the gun still in hand.

"You're not as smart as I thought if you can't figure that one out."

"I figured you wanted something more realistic than for me to take you back."

"Cute. You always were good at that dry sarcasm."

"I learned it from G," she added, her tone possibly even drier.

"Ugh, would you shut up about him? What the hell did you even see in him? He's like fifty."

"Thirty-nine."

"Close enough.

"And a gentleman."

"I'm a gentleman."

"Hardly. Grabbing women and spouting off a cheesy pickup line is not gentlemanly."

"You used to laugh about it all the time."

"When I didn't mind being grabbed, yes. But you did it to other women too, and you would do it when I didn't want to be touched."

"I was just playing!"

"And that thought process is one of the many reasons I didn't hesitate to get the hell away from you when I finally had an out."

"You are the hardest goddamned woman to please."

"No, you just don't understand respect and personal space." Kitten finally opened up the door. "Am I going to get shot in the calf like last time if I go for a walk?"

"Not unless you try to leave the neighborhood."

"Whatever. I'll risk it." This was good, Kitten thought. She'd annoyed Forde enough to keep him away a little longer. She just had to keep pushing the right buttons.


	17. TRIGGER WARNING Wait Pt15

"Doctor, your cane."

 _Sigh._ "Thank you, Sandra…"

Watching all of the cars gather and men and women pile inside, five to each vehicle, Gaster's knees had begun to twinge. Damned arthritis. Along with his prescription, his attentive consigliere had brought his sleek ebony cane. The pommel was of his own making, shaped from steel into a hooked eastern dragon's head and neck, an homage to the first gunpowder weapons- rockets from the far east. Gaster had once carried a similar cane with a hidden blade, but he'd found it made the cane itself far weaker, being hollow. And besides, he preferred blunt force to all that blood and deep cuts.

Gaster's own car, a sleek, convertible white Packard 645 with white-wall tires and black trim, soon pulled up with his usual driver at the wheel.

"All ready," the driver spoke up, an older woman that had worked with Gaster from the very beginning when he took over the Core Family from his father.

"Good morning, Ursula. I trust you know what's going on?" Gaster asked before slipping into the back seat with Sandra. Gaster's main bodyguard, a very broad and tall woman named Jeanne, took the passenger seat.

"Someone mentioned your boys were hurt and Kate Frisk was missing, but no details."

"Papyrus is in the hospital… Sans is on the warpath, and we're going to follow him."

"Those poor kids… Well, we'll see Kate makes it home, at the very least."

"I can only hope so."

Ursula turned out from the parking garage connected to the lab, following the line of differently-colored cars. They were all different to make them blend in and make it unclear which Gaster might be in should they be attacked.

The drive gave Gaster time to think about exactly what G might be planning. No doubt he would be furious over Kitten's kidnapping and Papyrus being shot. Gaster could only hope G would keep a cool head and think rationally.

It was four hours to the hospital in Snowdin, stopping only briefly to refuel twice. Pinedale didn't have a proper hospital, so Papyrus had been rushed to Snowdin after a stop outside Pinedale to pick up a friend of Echo Family who had medical training. By the time Gaster arrived in the hospital lobby, weary from the long journey and the worry he'd struggled with the whole way, he found some familiar faces waiting.

Snowdin and Echo men and women were gathered in groups here and there, waiting for their Dons. Other visitors were wary of the armed people, and tried to keep away. Several security guards were keeping watch, but things were calm.

Leaving most of his people outside the hospital, Gaster entered with only Jeanne and Sandra. The broad bodyguard remained at Gaster's side while Sandra spoke to the receptionist, and a Snowdin member approached them with his arm in a sling.

"Dr. Gaster," the man muttered hoarsely, bruises around his neck telling of some close fighting out there in the woods. "The Don's up on the fifth floor in a waiting room with Mettaton. I'll show you up there."

"Thank you," Gaster nodded, only hesitating a moment for Sandra to follow them to the elevators. On the fifth floor, Gaster stepped into a waiting room to find G some of his closest, Mettaton and his, Grillby, and Toriel Dreemurr all sitting together in relative silence. None of Papyrus' men were there, all likely out searching for Kitten. And only Wolfe, Les, and Jeremy were there from G's crew.

"Dr. Gaster," one of Mettaton's men spoke up as he noticed the Doctor entering. Almost every head in the room turned to Gaster and he looked over them all with a calm but somewhat forlorn expression until his one emerald eye settled on Mettaton and G, neither of which had looked up. Mettaton was clutching a ragged red scarf, no doubt Papyrus' favorite. It had small bloodstains here and there, and a new hole in the middle of one particularly large blood spot. G was simply staring at the floor. There was a notepad in one of his scarred hands, containing some information reported in by those out looking for Kitten and Forde and trying to get into heavily-guarded Streamtown.

"Son." At Gaster's voice, G slowly looked up, and in that one blue eye Gaster could see a world of hurt and anger just under the surface. Gaster's brows furrowed in concern, the calm he'd carefully regained on the drive over giving way to sympathy and the expression of a father looking down at his suffering son. "Come here, my boy," Gaster murmured, stepping away from Jeanne as G stood, the two meeting in the middle in a tight embrace. G couldn't do much with his left arm now bound up in bandages, but he draped it over Gaster's shoulder anyway and let himself be comforted.

"He's not doing well, Dad," G muttered, his head laying against the tall man's chest. "He might be paralyzed…"

"This is Papyrus we're talking about, Sans. Paralyzed or no, you'll be taking him home. Maybe not anytime soon, but he will make it home." Gaster's voice was far more confident than he felt, but he couldn't let G give in to hopelessness. Once G was ready to let go, Gaster's gaze fell upon Mettaton who still hadn't looked up. He was just staring, lost, at the scarf.

Stepping over, Gaster leaned heavily on his cane as he knelt, and G almost stopped him. "Dad…"

"It's fine."

"You're not gonna be able to get up…"

"That's what Jeanne is here for," Gaster assured him, settling (albeit painfully) on one knee before Mettaton, who still hadn't reacted at all to the outside world. Gaster laid a hand on Mettaton's where it clutched the scarf, and finally those strange purple eyes of his met Gaster's own.

"So you _are_ still with us," Gaster murmured with a kind smile. "I'm to understand that you've been my little boy's love for some time now. I didn't know until he visited me this summer."

"Yes sir," Mettaton answered, his voice barely above a whisper as tears returned for what felt like the hundredth time. "He's the best. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner…"

"Don't be. He's a grown man with his own life. I'm sure Sans has already given you the little talk about taking care of him… and he'll need you more than ever before when he comes out of that operating room."

"Blue's going to take care of everything… so I can focus here…" Mettaton reached up to swipe the tears away. "I'll make sure I learn everything he needs… the nurses will hate me for asking so many questions before I'm done."

"I'm so glad to hear that." Gaster drew the much younger man into a one-armed embrace. "He told me how much he adores you… Several times since this summer, in fact. So welcome to the family, my dear boy." That made Mettaton break down completely, clinging to Gaster like he was the last lifeline available. Gaster didn't mind a bit, though it shocked many people around him who'd never seen anything beyond the professional, cool, and deadly Dr. Gaster who dealt in weapons of death and destruction.

G watched the scene quietly, Mettaton's quiet sobs making his already-broken heart clench. "Boss," a Snowdin man's voice said softly, one of Papyrus' men having appeared in the doorway. "Decker just reported in from outside Streamtown. It's important."

"Not here." G followed the man out to the hallway, and took a torn scrap of paper from him written in quick and sharp letters. It was the translation to a message in Morse code.

..-. - .-. -.. . / .. -. / - - .- -. ... . -. -.. / ... -.- / -.- .- - . / ... .-. - - - . -.. / ..- -. -.. . .-. / -. ..- .- .-. -.. / .-. - ... ... .. -... .-.. . / . -. - .-. -.- / ...- .. .- / ... - ..- - ... / .-. - .- -..

"FORDE IN TOWNSEND HQ

KATE SPOTTED UNDER GUARD

POSSIBLE ENTRY VIA SOUTH ROAD"

G tucked the scrap into his chest pocket and turned his attention to the lookout. "Tell Decker to pull back and wait for reinforcements. We're taking Kitten back even if I have to burn the fucking place to the ground."

"Who's going to be leading the charge, sir?"

"Dad and I… we're not doing anyone any good just waiting here. Tell the boys downstairs to get some rest, I'll pay for motel rooms. We'll head to Streamtown first thing in the morning."

"Will do, boss."

…

Forde was getting impatient. Not just angry or annoyed anymore, but impatient. And Kitten was petrified. She'd had to give up the idea of walking around to avoid Forde, a blizzard setting in as the sun went down. That meant she was stuck inside with Forde, and she wasn't allowed anywhere in the building except his flat. She was alone for a short time while Forde was dealing with a problem downstairs, but her mind was racing with how she'd fend him off again. Forde _would_ hurt her, but it wasn't so much the pain that she was scared of. It was the invasion of her body. If Forde had any concept of what he'd done to her mentally and emotionally, he didn't care.

There had been a two-week period of her life where she'd been his prisoner, only finally escaping thanks to random chance. But he'd gotten to her one other time, shortly after she'd begun to grow attached to G. It had nearly ruined her relationship with G when he didn't know what had happened and she had suddenly become vicious when any man got anywhere near her. Only Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys had been able to coax her out of her shell until she finally decided G deserved to know what had happened. Forde had nearly died that very night, but he'd managed to escape and Kitten had told G not to chase him. She was beginning to regret that decision now…

The door opening made Kitten jump, looking over as Forde stepped in followed by three of his boys. "I swear to fucking God, if I see one Snowdin in my town, you boys are gonna end up at the bottom of the harbor. You fucking hear me?" He snarled at them, and they all nodded silently, keeping back by the door while Forde flopped into an armchair. "Kill Decker, set up a perimeter, and get the armored cars out there." As they all nodded again, Forde glared at them. " _NOW_ goddammit!" With that, the men practically fled out the door and Forde threw a rolled-up newspaper at the door as it shut.

Decker knew she was there. That thought lifted Kitten's spirits considerably. As Snowdin's resident master of code and subterfuge, she knew he'd probably already reported her location. Even if he hadn't seen her, the sheer number of guards posted around the town would've been evidence enough. Forde didn't want to lose her again, and so had overcompensated with his defenses. She wanted to poke at Forde, chide him about how useless his men were. But he was in such a mood that it was a risk to her own health. So she remained silent, occupying herself with nothing in particular.

After ten minutes or so, Forde finally got up and came wandering over to her, and she leaned away when he came too close. "Hey. You hungry?"

"No."

"Bull. You haven't eaten all day."

"It's hard to have an appetite in a prison."

"Oh, come on." Forde sighed dramatically. "It's been a rough day, Kitty. You can't be a little personable?"

"I would be if I weren't dealing with you." That was the wrong thing to say, and Forde grabbed Kitten's arm.

"Hey! I've had a rough fucking day, Kate, and I don't want to deal with your shit anymore! You're alive because of me! When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?!"

Emboldened by sheer rage, Kitten shoved his chest hard and he stumbled back. "You act like I should be grateful! Like I should be happy you let Garrett walk into a trap alone! You could've saved us both! You could've stayed fucking loyal to a cause for once in your miserable life!"

She caught Forde's arms when he came back to grab her again, but he overpowered her and his fingers caught the front of her shirt. "You _should_ be grateful, you little bitch! You're alive and Russo will let you stay that way, thanks to the deal I made with him! If I hadn't, he would've kept on hunting you even if you'd survived in Pinedale!"

"I'd rather be dead than spend one more second around you!" All of her fears were screaming at her to stop, but her strong will and her love for G and the indignation at the whole situation made her far too bold for her own good.

"That can be fucking arranged," Forde pulled her in tightly, his grip on her shirt nearly restricting her breathing.

"You keep saying that, but you won't do it," Kitten snarled quietly, her fingernails digging into his wrists. "I know you won't."

"Alright… Yeah, maybe I won't…" Forde's grip loosened slightly. "But I can get damned close, can't I?" Kitten's world tilted wildly as she was flung to the floor, her elbow hitting so hard on the wood that pain shot through her entire arm. She barely had a chance to recover before Forde grabbed her again. He drew back and slapped her across the face so hard her vision went hazy. When he hit her again, Kitten tasted blood. Her fingers tried desperately to pry his own away, and she finally let out a yelp when he grabbed her hand so tightly that she felt a crackling in her knuckles. A blow to her stomach left her breathless and she curled into a ball beneath him, her arms covering her face while he knelt and grabbed her by the waist.

Cold, awful fear shot through her when she heard the buckle on her belt rattle, and Forde practically ripped away her slacks and soon her shirt as well. When she cried out again and tried to grab his wrists, she was met with another vicious slap to the same, bruised and swelling cheek, and she went silent except for the occasional, involuntary whimper. Kitten retreated into her own mind, covering her face once more. The physical world was pushed far away even when she was suddenly naked there on the floor of Arnold Forde's flat, and Kitten only distantly heard the rattle of metal and the creak of leather from his own belt before she shut down completely.


	18. Heavy Artillery Pt16

The white Packard came to a halt on the snowy road before an entire line of Snowdin, Echo, Core, and even New Home Family vehicles. Asgore had managed to send at least a little help, but he was still being kept away defending his assets from Russo. Barely visible through the light snowfall and further down the road was Streamtown, silent and daring the four Families to approach.

Gaster stepped out first, soon followed by Sandra, G, and Jeanne. Close behind them came a few more cars from Echo and Snowdin, and several black vans from Core. Gaster had called on some people still at his workshop to gather up anything left in his arsenal along with ammunition, and send it over.

When G stepped around the car, he stared in shock at just who Asgore had sent. Standing in their own small group in heavy, fur-lined jackets all with semi-automatic rifles strapped to their backs and matching, heavy handguns on their hips were none other than the New Home Peacemakers. Most prominent among them was their leader, the infamous Undyne Wagner in her signature black suit with the dark blue vest and matching tie. Her maroon hair was tied back smartly as usual and her eyepatch was in its usual place. Unlike G and Gaster who'd lost eyes to a sabotaged machine, Undyne had lost hers in an outright battle. A ricocheted bullet had caught her in the temple but hadn't gone any further than that eye, luckily for her, but she'd kept fighting despite the excruciating pain and the blood, until every thug was dead and her men were safe.

"Undyne," G called, and that amber eye turned to him.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Undyne was in front of him in just three strides of her long, toned legs. "You look like shit, G."

"Thanks," G chuckled weakly. He'd managed to sleep the night before, but he was in pain and it showed in his expression. His short hair was disheveled and he needed to shave the stubble that had formed beyond his beard, and he was still in the same clothes from his standoff with Russo's men.

"We got here a little ahead of your boys… Got to Decker just in time, in fact. One of my boys caught a bullet in the shoulder blade that was meant for Decker's chest."

"Is your man okay?"

"Yeah, the bullet was too slow to go much further than the bone. We sent him back to Echo."

"I'll be sure to thank him at some point… I can't afford to lose Decker."

"I know. Speaking of, we've got him secured. We set up a little outpost over there," she motioned a ways off where G could see a canvas had been erected behind a few vans. "Forde knows we're here, so there's no point trying to be discreet about it."

"Right… Any sign of Kitten?"

"None since Decker spotted her. But there was a blizzard last night so I wouldn't expect there to be anyone out in town."

"I suppose not…"

"Police vehicles approaching!" A man yelled from across the line of cars, and several of them quickly moved off the road. No one bothered to hide their weapons. It was too obvious anyway. Three police cars pulled to a halt in the road a few yards from the line, but only one officer emerged to approach them all.

"Morning, folks," he called. "We got a concerned call about a bunch of people in suits with guns sitting on the north road. Who's in charge here?"

"I am, sir," Gaster spoke up before G or Undyne could claim leadership. He confidently walked up to the officer and shook his hand with a friendly smile. "Dr. W.D. Gaster. We're all meeting up with some friends. The weapons in question are mostly of my making and we're going out to a range to do some testing."

"Oh, uh…" The officer looked suddenly worried about being in the middle of all of these people. They'd already guessed that these were mobsters, but knowing the infamous Dr. Gaster, owner and founder of Core Arms, was there leading them… it was worth plenty of concern. It was no secret that Gaster was the Don of the Core Family, but no investigator or detective had ever gotten anything on him.

"I'm sorry if we've caused the locals any concern. You see, we're waiting on Arnold Forde and his boys."

"Sir, um… Dr. Gaster… I'll have to ask you and your people to… move away from town, if that's the case. And… preferably away from the road."

"Of course. We can do that." Gaster patted the officer's shoulder kindly before turning. "You heard the man. Pack it in." The officer was left standing alone in the middle of the road while everyone got into their cars and followed the white Packard. The police wouldn't do a damn thing, they all knew. When the Families came out in large numbers, the police hid away until the trouble was over, then cleaned up the mess. That was all they were good for. Well, that and taking care of the little thugs that tried to cut in on the Families' business.

Settling back into his seat in the Packard beside G and Sandra, Gaster reached out to lay a hand on Ursula's shoulder over her seat. "Ursula, dear, take the long way around to the south end. And Jeanne, broadcast that to everyone, please."

"Can do," Jeanne nodded, opening up the glove box to reveal a large radio that all of the Core Family vehicles had built in. Everyone knew to follow the Packard, so they didn't have to worry about telling the rest of the fleet.

It was a hour-long detour to go around and end up on the south road, and they stopped only briefly for Gaster to bring in some of his people, who then ran to deliver the plan to the other cars so everyone was on the same page. They would wait for Decker to set up his radio station again, and once he made contact with an inside partner who'd betrayed Forde, they would head into town and straight for the Townsend Headquarters. The south road was so out of the way and no other Families operated any further south, so Forde wouldn't see them coming until it was too late to head them off.

Undyne led the charge, her Peacemakers willing to risk being the front line. Gaster and G separated into different cars and would come somewhere in the middle while a rear guard stopped any reinforcements from cutting off their exit. The cars sped down the main road, forcing the few civilians out of the way. One of the Peacemakers' cars was outfitted with a megaphone system, and a man warned all civilians to get off the streets and inside immediately. They weren't evil, after all. No innocent lives needed to get caught in the oncoming crossfire. Any police around also fled, and soon Snowdin, Echo, Core, and New Home had control of the main road straight through town, and they'd begun to eat up the distance to the Townsend Headquarters.

…

"Miss Frisk?" A soft voice barely made it to Kitten in the dark. Her body had stopped trembling some time ago, but she hadn't noticed, laying there limp and bruised and bare on Arnold Forde's bed. "Oh, Kate…" The voice whispered as it drew near. "You poor, poor thing…" A hand laid on her own, but she didn't react at all. Her glazed brown eyes just stared at the wall to her left, not caring that some stranger was looking down at her naked body. Any dignity she'd once had had been ripped away.

"Kate, I'm here to help." The voice was strangely familiar, and when the stranger laid a blanket over her, Kate finally managed to turn her head and see… Asriel. Asriel Dreemurr. His young face looked down at her with so much pity, it hurt. He was only seventeen, but he'd gotten into the world of crime and killing early when he'd been caught up in a fight between Asgore and a gang in New Home. After seeing his father mow down an entire gang, Asriel had grown fearful of his parents and had run away from home. Then, Forde had gotten hold of him. Asriel had agreed to work with him, needing money and a place to live so he wouldn't have to face Asgore again. Asriel had ended up becoming an efficient killer, exactly what he hadn't wanted to be, but he considered himself in too deep now to ever go home despite Asgore and Toriel's welcoming. Toriel had left Asgore over the whole situation when Asriel was fourteen.

He had such a kind expression and he looked so gentle and innocent despite all the blood that had gathered on his hands over the years. Finally he got some kind of reaction when tears filled Kitten's eyes and she lifted her unhurt hand to reach out to him. Leaning in, Asriel drew her into a careful embrace. She was in serious pain, but she didn't care. Seeing the friendly face of a boy she'd always adored did her a world of good.

"I'm going to get you out," he whispered. "They're coming, Kate. Core and Snowdin and Echo, they're all coming for you. I just have to get you to them. Can you get up?"

Kitten nodded slightly and managed to sit up with his help, but he made sure to keep the blanket around her, if only for the sake of being respectful. "I'll get you something to wear. I'm sorry it has to be Forde's clothes…"

"It's okay…" she whispered in return, clutching the blanket weakly with her swollen hand. One or two knuckles were surely broken. Asriel rifled through Forde's dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, a black dress shirt, and a thick sweater. "I brought you an extra pair of my shoes too, and a coat."

Asriel dutifully helped Kitten dress, keeping his eyes averted while she was bare for her own sake, then he got her a belt and helped her tie the shoes he'd brought, her injured hand unable to grip the laces. Once she had the jacket on, Asriel placed a small Glock in her good hand and tucked three spare magazines into her pockets. "We're gonna try to get as far as we can without causing a scene. But if something happens, make every shot count."

Kitten nodded, tucking the Glock into her belt before following Asriel out of the bedroom and into the main flat. She tried not to look at the shreds of her clothes or the messed-up cushions on the couch, willing those memories to stay away at least until she was safely away from this hellhole.

Asriel drew twin Core .45s from his belt, the same guns Asgore had sent him when Asriel wouldn't come home or even meet with Asgore or Toriel. Asgore had insisted his son be able to protect himself, and how better than with a pair of reliable and powerful Cores. They slipped out of the flat and Asriel led the way down the hall toward the stairwell. With the trouble going on outside, the building would be mostly empty above the ground floor. Getting out and away would be the hard part.

They didn't rush, taking the stairs quietly and listening close for anyone that might be approaching, until they hit eh ground floor. Being an old factory, the building was massive and there were plenty of exits, but they were all guarded. Asriel could still move around freely on his own, but Kitten would be in danger if anyone saw her trying to get out while Forde wasn't around. Asriel poked his head out of the stairwell when they came to the door, and he quietly cursed seeing the sheer number of people milling around. Ducking back into the stairwell, he directed Kitten back up. "We might be able to get out on the fire escape…"

Hearing a door on a different floor open up, both dodged into the second floor hallway before Kitten was seen, and Asriel led the way down the narrow corridor to the opposite corner of the building. The main factory floor's ceiling actually came up to the third floor, leaving an L-shaped outside hallway for the office block and extra storage space. Upon rounding the corner, Asriel stopped short just in time to keep Kitten from coming around too. A burly man with a shotgun was coming their way. He hadn't seen Kitten, so he called out, "Dreemurr! What the hell are you doin' up here? The boss called everyone down!"

"L-looking for you!" Asriel answered quickly while Kitten quietly went back down the other hall to find an unlocked room and hide inside. Asriel had to make something up and buy her time.

"Me?" The huge man asked, leaning the gun on his shoulder with a raised eyebrow when he stopped a few feet from Asriel. He ran a hand back through his thick red hair and scratched his unkempt beard.

"Yeah, the boss wants you to, um… come with me and some others. We're going to flank Core."

"Flank? … Where at?"

"Uh…"

"You lyin' to me, Dreemurr?" Blaine's blue eyes grew suddenly dark.

Asriel drew up his twin Cores instantly, the other man unable to pull up his own gun. Instead, the older man glared at Asriel and he slowly laid the shotgun on the floor. "Now step back," Asriel demanded. When the man didn't move, Asriel took a half-step forward. "You don't need to die right now, Blaine."

"Fuckin' traitor," the large man growled, finally stepping back while Asriel picked up the shotgun. Asriel kept his eyes on the man, never blinking or lowering his weapon.

"My loyalty lies with good people. With friends, Blaine. Yours could too, but you need to be alive to do that. So let me let you go. Just go into a room and I'll bar the door, then someone'll get you out when this is over."

Blaine glanced over his shoulder at the line of offices behind him, then back to Asriel to see the young man had lowered his gun. It was still aimed at Blaine, by Asriel's hip. "An' if I don't?" Blaine asked, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Then you won't leave me much of a choice."

"… You're tryin' to get Kate Frisk out, aren't you?" When Asriel didn't answer, Blaine's expression grew determined. "Gimme my gun back, boy."

"Back off, Blaine." Asriel took a step back and Blaine sighed darkly.

"Gimme the fuckin' gun and I'll get you out, kid. They'll believe two guards more'n one."

"… What?" Asriel asked quietly, and then he saw Kitten reappear at his side having heard the conversation. She let Blaine see her, and his expression softened. The look of recognition between them made Asriel's brows furrow in confusion.

"Give him the gun, Asriel," Kitten told him quietly, and Asriel looked straight at her with clear concern. "It's okay… It's Mark."

"You know him?"

"He's… my ex. One of the good ones."

"Hiya, darlin'," Blaine muttered softly, and Kitten took the shotgun from Asriel, placing it back in Blaine's hands.

"Hi, Mark," she murmured in return, standing up on her tip-toes to kiss his bearded cheek. "How did you get mixed up with Forde…?"

"Debt…"

"Heroine?"

"Yeah… but I'm clean now. Have been since about six months after we broke it off."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart." Asriel watched the scene unfold before him, completely dumbfounded. Kitten was always kind to Asriel, but he'd never seen her this soft and it was easy to see that she and Mark Blaine, the hard taskmaster Forde's men feared and respected, the man with no real friends or emotions to speak of, still loved each other.

"We'll catch up later, lass," Blaine finally sighed. "Gotta get you back to your man."

"Thank you," Kitten murmured, welcoming Asriel to follow them down the hall toward the fire escape. Blaine let the way, keeping a sharp eye out and pulling his long, dark coat tighter around himself once he opened up the door and the winter wind rushed by. Kitten stepped out close behind him, Asriel watching their backs. The fire escape led down to an alley, one of the least-used parts of the Townsend complex. But with the area crawling with guards who had orders to shoot outsiders on-sight, Kitten and her two escorts weren't taking any chances. They kept to the shadows once they got down the set of metal stairs, and Kitten kept right between them in the hopes that if they were caught, the other Townsends would believe Blaine and Asriel were her guards on Forde's orders.

Once they got to the other end of the alley, Blaine looked out to see the street blocked up by Townsend vehicles and men carrying everything from rifles to shotguns to sub-machine guns. Forde's men were always armed to the teeth. And now that an imminent threat was invading their town, Forde had authorized that his full arsenal to be handed out with enough ammunition to wipe out whole armies. The only things he was lacking were outright missile launchers and Gatling guns.

There was no way to cross the street in secret, so Kitten tucked away the Glock into her jacket and let both men take her by the arms, finally stepping out into the open with the hope that none of the men around them questioned her being removed from Headquarters. But of course, nothing was ever that easy.


	19. Barricade Pt17

The surge forward had been halted, and guns were blazing in the streets. It was an absolute hail of bullets from all sides. But somehow, Undyne Wagner managed to escape the wreck of her vehicle with all of her Peacemakers still on their feet, and find cover in an abandoned building. Half of the Peacemakers had some kind of small injury from the crashes where insane Townsends rammed their cars, and a couple of the elite fighters had been shot. Thankfully, their bullet-proof vests had absorbed most of the damage, or they'd only received flesh wounds. Undyne herself had been hit twice in the vest and her toned chest hurt like crazy from the awful bruises, but she was just fine. After all, one of the primary markings of a New Home Peacemaker was their uncanny luck.

"Everyone good?" Undyne asked as she sat against the brick wall beneath a window. Hearing them all sound off some version of 'good' or 'yes, boss,' Undyne smirked and took a deep breath. "Alright, boys and girls, I'm looking forward to smelling nothing but gunpowder. Set up wherever you can and keep radios tuned to me. Jas, tune yours to Decker and stay on my heels."

"Got it," her usual lookout muttered, pulling out her long-wave compact radio from a pack she always carried. While the others spread out through the building, Jasmine found the master station that Decker was using, a frequency that they used specifically so that most police scanners and normal radios couldn't listen in.

Undyne pulled her own radio from her hip, a smaller walkie-talkie style, and she flipped it on to the normal station her crew operated through when close together. "Undyne to all Peacemakers. Each floor will be a team, using one person as a team leader and their callsign. Sound off, floor one."

"Floor one, Romeo-nine."

"Floor two, Foxtrot-three.

"Floor three, Uniform-one," Undyne gave her own callsign.

"Floor four, Victor-two."

"Rooftop, Yankee-seven."

Undyne glanced around at her own team as they shifted furniture out of the way and blocked up any windows not facing the street. "Romeo-nine, you're on watch duty. Cover all entrances and the fire escape."

"Covered, Uniform."

"Any weak points?"

"Windows. But we're moving tables and bookshelves in front of them right now."

"Good. Yankee-seven, careful of your heads. The Townsends have snipers out."

"Got it, boss."

"I don't want anyone getting killed here today, you guys got that? We're already gonna have enough funerals to go to once this is over, and I don't fancy knocking on your families' doors to give them the bad news… And you all know the drill if I get my head blown off. You pick a new leader fast and you look after Alphys and Asgore."

"You got it, boss."

"Always."

"Eh, I'm feeling pretty lazy, boss," she heard Victor-two, a woman by the name of Vivian, answer back. "Probably best you don't die, that way I don't have to worry about it."

"You sassy-" Undyne chuckled. "Thanks, Vi. Can always count on you."

"Sure thing. Now keep your dumb ol' head down."

…

This was the second firefight in three days that Don G had been part of, but he wasn't trapped like before. Instead, Gaster had taken over a small restaurant on the main street facing the road that led to the Townsend HQ. After safely escorting any civilians out the back door to other buildings (Gaster wasn't a monster, after all), Core and Snowdin men and women had set up in the restaurant and radioed back that it was safe for Decker to move into town in a makeshift mobile radio station, which was really just a van with all his equipment inside.

Sitting in chairs behind the island bar where they had plenty of cover, G and Gaster remained side-by-side along with Jeanne and Sandra and a few other bodyguards. G was anxious, unable to sit still as he heard the gunfire rage in the distance. What if his Kitten got caught in the crossfire? What if their man on the inside, the one Decker was so sure of, turned out to be a double-agent and was luring them into a trap? What if-

"Sans." G heard Gaster speak up, and he glanced over to see Gaster had pulled a carton of juice from a small fridge under the counter. "There's a little bit of everything under here… do you want anything?" G could only stare at his father incredulously.

"What?" Gaster asked, raising a brow over his emerald eye.

"Are you not aware of what's going on right now?"

"I'm very aware. But we can't do anything but wait for our people to clear the way. So, I might as well get a serving of fruit for the day." Gaster quite calmly pulled a cup from a shelf and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"You're unbelievable, Dad."

"But oh-so real." G couldn't help a little smirk at that. Whatever disagreements he had with Gaster, he could appreciate the man's dry humor.

"Yeah… I'll take the same."

"Good choice. And don't you worry, son. We'll see our Kitten soon. Undyne will make sure of it."

…

Pain. That was all Kitten could think of as blood bloomed across her clothing. But it wasn't her own. She was too beaten and bruised to remember whose it was, until her eyes focused on the gigantic red-headed man collapsed against her. Then her pain paled in comparison to the way her heart squeezed so tightly and tears brimmed in her already-red eyes.

"Asriel…" she whispered, her voice hoarse from being choked within an inch of her life. But it hadn't been Forde this time. Turning her head slowly to the side, she saw the culprit raise a crowbar over his head over the limp form of Asriel Dreemurr. The stranger heard her voice, and paused to turn and look at her, trapped there beneath Mark Blaine's bloody form. They only focused on her just in time to see her slowly raise the Glock that had been hidden in her jacket. One slow trigger-pull later, their body slumped to the ground beside Asriel and Kitten simply couldn't hold the heavy handgun up anymore, her arm dropping back to the icy pavement.

It was so cold. But of course, it was winter. Yet Mark's blood was warm, almost hot. Kitten didn't know if he was even still breathing. She couldn't focus enough to tell. Her eyes remained on Asriel, closing when he began to pick himself up, cradling his ribs where he'd been struck with the crowbar several times, and he managed to stand up and stumble to Kitten's side.

Everything had gone so terribly wrong. They had made it across the street from the alley way, and then they'd met six men in the alley, all armed with blunt weapons and handguns. Their leader was one of Forde's closest men, and he'd seen right through their ruse. Forde would've told him if he'd ordered Kitten to be moved.

Mark put up a great fight, two with his shotgun before they even got close, and Asriel had killed two with his twin Core .45s. But each had been caught with the end of a bat or crowbar and knocked to the ground. Asriel had been helpless, too dazed to fight back, and Mark had passed out just long enough for the man with the bat to go after Kitten, who hadn't had time to draw her gun. He'd hit her twice in the stomach with the bat before pinning her and strangling her, until Mark came to and kicked the man off. Then, the Townsend had gotten hold of Mark's shotgun. That particular crack of the gun had been the loudest sound Kitten had ever heard and she'd watched through a haze as buckshot went straight through her former beau. Mark had stumbled toward the man, wrestled the gun from his hands, and shot him point-blank in the head, before coming back to Kitten to try to help her get up. That had only resulted in Mark collapsing at her side, a heavy arm draped across her middle and the hole in his chest bleeding against her right shoulder.

Asriel fell to his knees beside Kitten, reaching out to move Mark's arm before he pulled Kitten out from under the motionless man. "Mark…" Kitten whispered, reaching back to grip his sleeve, but he didn't respond. "Markus…"

"We can't do anything for him, Kate," Asriel murmured weakly, but Kitten wouldn't hear it. Feeling some strength return in her dazed panic, she managed to sit up and pull Mark's head into her lap. He was still breathing, she could finally see, but only just.

"We have to do something…" Kitten insisted, brushing back his thick red hair with her uninjured hand. The other had swollen terribly after Forde's abuse and was turning purple.

"Neither of us are strong enough to move him far… We have to get out, Kate. This is what he was helping us for- to get you out."

"I can't leave him… He always made sacrifices for me… He never asked a thing in return." Kate Frisk was not a woman to fall to sentiment and tears in dangerous situations, but this was just too much and she was too concussed and traumatized to think logically.

"Listen…" Asriel reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "We'll move him inside a building so he doesn't freeze. We'll get out, and we'll send help for him. We can't do anything for him staying here. Okay? He knew what it meant when he decided to help us. So let's not make that sacrifice all for nothing. If we get you back to G, Mark will be happy."

Kitten could only nod slightly as tears coursed down her cheeks, and both she and Asriel managed to stand and begin dragging Mark away to the nearest unlocked door. It was the entrance to a boiler room in some apartment building a block away, but at least it was warm inside. Kitten carefully wrapped Mark's jacket around his chest to stem the blood flow at least a little, and at Asriel's insistence, she didn't linger. She simply left him with a kiss to his forehead before they closed the door and limped away into the streets and alleys of Streamtown.


	20. Succumb Pt18

"Decker to Core Command. Repeat, Decker to Core Command."

"Command here. Go ahead." Beside Gaster, Sandra answered the radio call from Decker's station.

"Command, Townsend HQ has been taken over. No sign of Kate Frisk."

"Shit…" At that, G was out of his seat, rounding the island counter to head for the door. Gaster was slower to rise.

"Sans!" Gaster called. "You're going to get yourself killed if you go out there!"

"This is taking too long, Dad," G growled back, pulling on his coat as he stopped before the door, placing his twin Colt .45s in more reachable places on his belt.

"Then take a better goddamned gun," Gaster sighed, managing to hobble up to G despite his bad knees acting up again. Gaster pulled his own long-barrel revolver out and handed it over alongside four quick-loaders with seven rounds reach. "It'll get a lot further than those old Colts. And I'm going to make sure you replace those useless things if you come back alive."

"… Thanks, Dad…" G muttered, glancing down as Gaster stuffed the quick-loaders in G's jacket pockets. He was surprised when Gaster hugged him tightly, and even more so when Gaster kissed his forehead… like G's mother used to do to all three of her boys.

"Just make sure you come back… I would never be able to face Kate and Papyrus if you died on my watch…" Gaster looked down at his son with deep concern, but also confidence. "Now go get your Kitten."

"Yes, sir," G nodded, turning to push the doors open, two Snowdin men and two Core women at his heels.

The five all took a car down the main, secured road toward the Townsend HQ. It'd been about four hours since the battle had begun, and no outside forces had intervened. No one, not even the law or the military, dared get involved. The way many of them saw it (with the help of a few 'donations' here and there), the Families would fight and wipe each other out until the peaceful ones were left and business continued as usual. Even illegal business was good for the economy, and even the most honest of politicians knew and respected that fact.

When G pulled up to the HQ, he and his small crew ducked into the factory quickly to see the ground floor had been converted into something of a field hospital for surrendered Townsends and G's allies. He spotted a Peacemaker laying unconscious on a few jackets, and knew Undyne was probably nearby directing everything. As expected, he soon caught her voice barking orders as she came down from the upper floors.

"-Asriel wouldn't betray us. If Kate's missing and so is he, and we haven't found either dead, I'm willing to bet my life that he's with her, whether she's with Forde or not." G was about to call out to Undyne when he caught sight of someone very familiar. In a corner between two Core members was a huge brute of a man with red hair and a thick beard, covered up with spare jackets and shivering violently.

"… Mark?" G asked softly as he dared to approach, and the trembling giant opened his blue eyes to look up with some measure of surprise, though part of it might've just been confusion and dizziness. "Mark, is that you?"

"Don… took you long enough…" Mark rasped. "Kate already got out…"

"When? Where?!" G asked quickly, but Mark had a hard time answering.

"I… don' know when… but out back. East side. We got jumped across the street. I don't remember anything…"

"… That's okay. It's something. Was she alone?"

"With Asriel."

"Thank fucking Christ," G sighed, glancing off toward the back door. "If they're together, she's got a better chance…"

"Garrett?" G's attention returned to Mark, and his brows furrowed in concern as one of the Core men pulled back a jacket to reveal an awful wound that had been crudely bandaged with what little they had for medical supplies.

"You look like hell, Mark…" G stepped over to kneel beside him. "You don't remember what happened?"

"Got hit pretty hard… probably got me with my own shotgun… Looks like buckshot."

"Shit…"

"Do me a favor, Don."

"Sure," G murmured, watching Mark's blue eyes close against the pain of the Core man applying new bandages which were really just clean, shredded pieces of cloth.

"You know what Kate and I used to be…"

"Yeah."

"If I don't see her in time, can you tell her I love her…?"

"You'll see her, pal. Hell, you might have to fight me for her seeing as you're her new hero…" It was a pitiful attempt at humor, but Mark tried to chuckle anyway. It was bitter, and the little smile G had managed now faltered.

"I don't want to take her back… she's found her man. But… will you tell her for me anyway?"

"Sure thing. I know you still love her… and I appreciate how good you always were to her. You set a high bar, my friend. Whenever she gets mad at me for being lazy, she loves to remind me how much of a hard worker you are. I've got a lot to live up to if I wanna keep our Kitten happy."

"Our Kitten…?"

"She still loves you too, Mark. She had her reasons for leaving, but the love never died. Just like it never did for Fiona." Mark chuckled a little more heartily at that, but it hurt. It was debatable that Kitten loved anyone as much as she'd loved Fiona, the girlfriend she'd had between Mark and Forde.

"Fi would kill me for letting this happen…"

"She'd kill us both. But she can't, so don't you go dying anyway."

"I'll try my best, G."

"Good. The boys are gonna get you out of here and over to Echo as soon as possible. You just keep being a stubborn ass."

"Yes, sir." G rose from his side then, leaving the man be to finally go to Undyne who had paused to wait for him once she noticed he'd arrived. She looked as feisty and energetic as ever despite two bullet-holes in her tailored jacket. Seeing no blood, G knew one of Gaster's vests had saved her and she'd probably brushed it off just like any other close call.

"G," Undyne sighed.

"Well, we know which way Kitten went. The question is… why east? There's nothing but woods out east." G walked with Undyne and both their entourages toward the eastern door.

"Maybe that's exactly why," Undyne suggested. "Where better to find cover and lose someone than the woods? You and your people did it."

"True. But Kitten doesn't know the area-"

"Asriel does."

"Has anyone found any sign of them at all? Any confirmation they actually got away and Forde didn't catch them?"

"No proof, but Forde's desperately trying to get the HQ back. If he had everything and everyone he needed, I think he'd retreat to another one of his little strongholds."

"Possibly. But I need hard proof."

"That's what we're going to look for. I've already got some people spread out to the east. I can have Decker run a check-in and make sure no one's seen Kate or Asriel."

"If they haven't, we need to start wherever Mark Blaine was found."

"We'll head there while I call in."

…

Kitten could hardly breathe at this point, and Asriel was probably even worse off with his cracked ribs. They'd been running for an hour, and Forde himself was on their heels. Someone had seen them trying to get out of town and reported it. Soon, a car had caught up to them and Kitten shot out its tires. Now Forde and three men were after them on foot in the woods. The cold and pain made it so hard to breathe that Asriel finally had to stop behind a huge tree and lean back on it, willing himself to take a deep breath, but finding he was unable. Kitten wasn't doing much better with her concussion. Both were fit and healthy people, but this was just too much with their injuries.

"Oh, Kitty!" Forde's sickly-sweet voice rang out across the woods, making a chill run up both Asriel and Kitten's spines. But it was far away, far enough that they had time to hide and dig in. They couldn't run anymore, it was too painful and they were getting slower. They had to make a stand.

"Come on out, babe! I miss you already!"

"Asriel, stay here. I need to get a better angle," Kitten whispered to Asriel. He had no chance to agree or argue before she slipped away and out of sight. Soon Asriel could hear loud footsteps in the snow nearby, and quiet chatter between Townsends about how cold it was and how stupid this search for one girl was. It wasn't as if Forde couldn't just get another broad to drag to bed whenever he felt like it.

Asriel held his breath when they got a little too close, only daring to exhale when the footsteps began to move away. He slowly poked his head out to watch the two Townsend's backs as they walked off toward where Kitten had disappeared to, and Asriel was just about to lift his twin Cores when a massive pain bloomed across his back and he yelped, dropping to the ground. When he opened his eyes again, he found a thick branch right in front of his nose. On the other end was none other than Arnold Forde himself

"Hiya, kiddo," Forde growled through a sneer, his normally slicked-back blonde hair disheveled and shadowing his twisted expression. "You made some bad choices today, my friend. And after all I've done for you."

Two shots rang out in the distance and Forde's head snapped up in time to see his two men fall into the snow. Two more were behind him, and they quickly took cover with weapons at the ready. Forde ducked down and easily snatched away Asriel's guns and got him in a headlock. Asriel could hardly struggle, still unable to breathe properly as he was dragged backward to the same cover as the other men. He was beginning to pass out when Forde let him go.

"Should I finish him, boss?" One of the men whispered, and Forde shot a glare at him.

"Hell no!" Forde growled quietly, and then called out toward Kitten's hiding spot. "Got your little buddy, babe! Toss your weapons out and we'll let him live a few more hours!"

After a long silence, Forde saw a Glock thrown out. He wasn't quite sure where Kitten was yet, though. "All of 'em!"

Soon a shotgun was thrown out too, and a few magazines and buckshot rounds. Forde knew to expect that she would have one more trick up her sleeve, but he didn't have time to think about it before a shot rang out the man directly beside him crumbled into the snow. Forde flinched away, ducking low with the remaining Townsend fighter. Neither could see where it had come from. But then they heard a voice.

 _"WHERE'S MY KITTEN?!_ " Forde cursed to himself at that. He only had one man with him and not much ammunition. He'd been stupid to go so far from town with so few bodyguards!

"Move," Forde growled at the man. "Flank him. I'll stay here."

"B-boss, I-"

"Move!" Forde hissed, leveling his gun at the man's head, and the Townsend fighter scrambled away as quickly and quietly as he could. Forgetting about the nearly-unconscious Asriel, Forde began crawling away and trying hard to leave as little of a trail as possible.

 _"KITTEN!"_ G roared, his blood on fire after another firefight that had left Undyne with a bullet in the thigh and everyone else in their entourage wounded or dead. G had been the only one to escape without new injuries, and he had left the group despite Undyne roaring at him that he'd just get himself killed.

Kitten had felt her heart leap at the sound of his voice the first time, and she almost wasn't sure it was him until he'd called the second time. But she couldn't call back yet and give away her position. She didn't know only Forde and one other man were left, and she didn't know they'd both given up trying to get at her.

G rushed through the snow, dodging between trees for cover and scanning all over for any sign of Forde and his boys. He found the man he'd shot, and nearly tripped over Asriel. "Az," G gasped, seeing the younger man curled up in terrible pain. "Asriel, where's Kitten?" G asked quickly, taking the young man by the shoulders, but Asriel was too out-of-it to even process the question. "Fuck…" G growled, poking his head up to look around.

He heard the most miniscule sound behind him. He might've dismissed it as just some snow settling into his footprints, but he was so jumpy that he whipped around just in time to smack a gun out of the last Townsend's hand. G didn't have a chance to raise his own gun before the man disarmed him too and tackled him into the snow.

"Son of a-" G choked when his attacker's hands closed around his throat. "Fucking… bastard…!" G was tired, and even adrenaline didn't quite give him the strength he needed to pry the man's hands away. All he could do was rip at the Townsend's wrists and hands with his nails. Bloody and painful as it was, the man just wouldn't let go. G's vision began to narrow, black edges making the man seem to grow further and further away. He couldn't suck in precious oxygen, and it all nearly faded to black when something swiped across his field of view and took the Townsend with it. The pressure on his esophagus suddenly lifted and the rush of air left G in a coughing fit, rolling onto his side while the distant sound of a blunt object striking flesh echoed in the empty woods.

When G finally looked up, he saw his attacker- or the bloody remains of the man- pinned to the ground under a heavily-bruised young woman with a bloody shirt and jacket. Tears streamed down her face as she desperately flailed a broken bat, crushing the already-dead man's skull more and more until it was just a mess of blood, bone, and brains and the crimson splattered across the snow.

"Kitten…" G rasped, but she didn't hear him. He crawled on his knees to her and caught her shoulders, barely catching her by the wrist before she could lash out and hit him too in her blind panic. "Kitten! Kate! Kate, it's me! It's Garrett!" He tried to reach her as she struggled and let out strangled, terrified sounds when he pulled her away from the corpse. He tossed the broken bat away and pulled Kitten in tight against his chest, wincing but not letting go when she grabbed him by the arms, one hand clenching over that awful wound in his left bicep.

"Kitten… sweetheart… It's G. It's Garrett," he whispered when her sobs of fear began to quiet and she grew weak against him. "I'm here, honey…" Her quick and panicked breaths subsided into hiccups and a fresh wave of tears came rushing out. Her arms wrapped tightly around his chest and his own settled around her shoulders. "Thank fucking God, Kate… And I thought _I_ was doing the saving…"

"You… you useless…" Kitten whimpered, but any attempt at her usual dry humor was lost to quiet sobs of relief and sheer trauma.

"I _am_ pretty useless, huh…? Christ, I am…" G lifted his head when she buried her bruised face against his chest. "We gotta go, honey… Undyne's close by and she called some vehicles out. We're gonna go home, baby…"

"Asriel…" Kitten whispered, finally glancing over to the young man now laying unconscious in the snow. "Where… where's Forde…?"

"I don't know… but we're not going to stick around and find out. Can you walk?"

"Yeah… I can…"

"I'll carry the kid." G helped her to her feet, though both of them were a little shaky. Still, G's adrenaline was high and he used it while it lasted to scoop up Asriel. Thankfully the boy was thin and fairly light for his size, and G managed to carry him over his shoulder. He tried not to hurt Asriel's ribs any more than they clearly were, but no other carry was feasible with G's wounded arm. Kitten picked up Asriel's twin Cores and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She needed to be protection now while G was occupied. Thankfully, though, no one else was after them. But Kitten couldn't help glancing behind her every minute or so, sure she'd see Forde with his Magnum aimed at the back of G's head at any moment.

"Undyne!" G called after a few minutes' walk.

"Over here!" The familiar gruff but feminine voice called back, and Kitten was suddenly choked up again with pure relief when she saw Peacemakers appear to take Asriel. Undyne came limping out from cover, leaning on one of her taller men. She let go of him to meet Kitten with a tight embrace when their eyes met. Kitten didn't care if it hurt like hell, she needed to hug Undyne back as tightly as her weak limbs would allow. "Hey, babe…" Undyne muttered. "God, it's so good to see you…"

"Thank you… thank you so much…" Kitten murmured against Undyne's jacket collar.

"No problem. But the people you really wanna thank are Decker and Asriel. Maybe Gaster too and your man, if you have time."

"I plan to… But I just want to go home right now, Undyne…"

"I know. We can all party later." Undyne gave Kitten a kind and gentle smile that was generally out of character, but it was just what Kitten needed to see.

Two Peacemakers took Asriel to a van that had arrived after G had run off, and soon Kitten and G were settled side-by side in a car with Undyne driving and her radio operator Jasmine in the passenger seat. Kitten was curled up as tightly against G's right side as she could get, his arm securely around her while her right hand and his left each still held a powerful Core handgun in the fear that something would happen to ruin their narrow escape.

The adrenaline had subsided by the time Kitten and G emerged from the car on the south end of town where everyone had retreated to after stealing as much of the Townsends' arsenal as they could and loading it all into spare vans from Echo. That would keep the Townsend Family from retaliating anytime soon, even with Forde unaccounted for. G knew Forde had escaped, seeing his chance after getting caught out in the open while his little empire crumbled.

Gaster was waiting for his son and Kitten, leaning on the hood of the white Packard just having taken another dose of arthritis medication after he couldn't stand the pain any longer. But all was forgotten- including his cane- when he saw G and Kitten emerge. He bolted away from the car to meet them, but managed to stop himself from wrapping Kitten up in his arms when he saw how badly beaten she was. But she didn't care, leaving G's side to hurry into Gaster's arms and hug him as tightly as her shaking arms would allow.

"Kate, darling," Gaster murmured, his arms draping gently around her. When she buried her face against his chest, he dared to hold her tighter. She didn't care about the ache in her body when she needed his fatherly love and attention to soothe her heart and soul. "Sweet Kitten… You never deserved this…" Gaster whispered with a sigh, and Kitten fell to tears. Her knees gave out and Gaster just managed to catch her, G bolting over to help as he forgot how tired he was for just a moment. Between two of the most protective and loving men she knew, Kitten finally passed out from sheer stress and exhaustion.

It was Gaster who picked her up. He ignored his knees protesting at the extra weight on the way to his car, and Kitten and G were able to settle peacefully in the back of the Packard with clean jackets from kind Core Family members draped around them. Gaster laid his own long coat over Kitten after placing her down with her head on G's lap, and he closed the door before taking his seat up front. Jeanne let Sandra join them, getting into a different vehicle before a line of cars escorted the Packard away from Streamtown and toward Echo for the night.


	21. Intensive Care Pt19

_"Until he's fully awake and able to work with them, we won't know whether or not he's paralyzed…"_

 _"What about the x-rays?"_

 _"Definitely nicked the spine and then carried on through. The bullet barely made it out the front, most likely. He's lucky it hit so low. It only hit his large intestine, and the hole was an easy fix for Dr. Carr."_

"Can you idiots just shut up?" Mettaton finally growled sleepily at two of his men that were talking quietly in the corner of the waiting room, all of the other Echo and Snowdin members there glaring at the two.

"Uh… sorry, boss… didn't realize you were awake."

"Go gossip somewhere else…"

"Yeah, sure, boss…" Both men edged out of the room, still caught up in the middle of all the glares of the exhausted men and women around them.

Mettaton was curled up on a tiny sofa under his coat with Papyrus' scarf tangled in his arms, and several other Family members were trying to sleep too either sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, on one of the few sofas, or on the floor. They were all Mettaton's and Papyrus' bodyguards, but no one was allowed in to see Papyrus yet. It had been a full forty-eight hours since Papyrus had been rushed into the emergency room, and Mettaton had only heard updates every few hours that Papyrus was still alive, but nothing had changed about his critical condition.

That was about to finally change as a doctor in long white coat, a blue dress shirt, and black slacks, stepped in. He adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses and glanced down at his clipboard. "Is there a Mr. Taylor here for Papyrus Skjal?"

Despite being thoroughly exhausted, Mettaton bolted upright. "I'm here," he answered quickly. "Is he okay? Is he awake?"

"Hold on," the doctor said softly, lowering his clipboard. "I have some new information for you. He's finally started to improve." Everyone in the room let go of their held breath at that, and Mettaton stood to approach the doctor, keeping Papyrus' scarf clutched tightly to his chest. "My records indicate that Mr. Skjal's brother added you to the list of people who are allowed to make medical decisions for Mr. Skjal recently, should he not be able to decide for himself. That means you're also entitled to full knowledge of what's going on with him and all sensitive information pertaining to his condition."

"… I hope you don't have something awful to say…" Mettaton murmured, but the doctor's expression remained neutral.

"Let's go sit down in my office and I'll fill you in on all the details. There's a lot that's still very tentative and will change based on his condition, and you, as a decision-maker for him, need to know about it."

"… Alright." Motioning for all his men to remain, Mettaton followed the doctor to his office on the next floor down, and took a seat in a simple chair before the doctor's desk while he settled into his own office chair and pulled out a file.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I never introduced myself…" the doctor remembered suddenly. "I came in earlier but you were asleep. Nathan Miles, I work in Neurology and I was in on the surgery to repair Mr. Skjal's intestinal tract. I took an assessment of possible damage to his spinal cord and vertebrae."

"Mettaton Taylor… um… Papyrus is my…"

"Your partner, I'm aware. Don Skjal made sure that accepting doctors were taking care of his little brother, so he wouldn't be refused care. It's a damned shame that happens in this day and age… but I promise you you're in a safe space, sir."

"That… that's good to know. Really, it is. The number of times we've been refused service even for simple things because we're together…" Mettaton looked down at the scarf in his hands, remembering all the times they'd been asked to leave restaurants or stores at the beginning of their relationship.

"That won't happen here where I and Mr. Skjal's other caretakers can help it. Now... Let me see…" Dr. Miles sorted through the file marked 'P. ' and pulled out a sheet of notes. "First of all… I need to make it clear that we do not know yet if Mr. Skjal's mobility will be compromised in the long run. The bullet struck and destroyed a vertebrae but it's not clear if it effected the spinal cord yet. If it was only the vertebrae, he will still need physical therapy once we replace it and get him back on his feet. If the spinal cord was damaged… well, there's a chance he'll be paralyzed from about the navel and down. If that's the case, we will of course guide you and his other caretakers through all the necessary steps to get him settled and help him make the most of life, even disabled. This is a very real possibility and it's hard to come to terms with for everyone involved… but it isn't the end of the world. The hardest person to convince of that will be Mr. Skjal himself if he is indeed paralyzed."

"… I think he'll be able to handle it… he's the most positive person in the world. He'll think a wheelchair is a neat new addition to his look…" Tears flooded Mettaton's eyes for what felt like the millionth goddamned time and he buried his face in the red scarf.

"He may need a little help finding the light, Mr. Taylor. But being disabled doesn't mean his quality of life can't be just as good as it was before."

"I know, I know… I'll be the one having a hard time, not him. He'll probably go showing off, doing wheelies and making spinners for the big wheels. My Papyrus can make anything look stylish…" Sniffling, Mettaton shook his head. "I'm sorry… please, go on."

"Not a problem, sir. I know this is very difficult… but I do have some good news for you in the middle of all this uncertainty."

"… Yes?" Mettaton looked up with a little bit of hope.

"He did wake up briefly a few hours ago, and aside from the expected painkiller haze, he was fairly lucid. He even remembered my name from when I told him just before the surgery. And that's a wonderful sign. Even people who've been through far less trauma usually don't remember their doctors' names after an operation, or any at all until the morphine dosage is lowered, but he recited back every one we'd told him."

"Papyrus never forgets a name. He's too polite," Mettaton nodded with a weak smile. "Did he say anything else?"

"He asked about a kitten. Does he own a cat?"

"Oh… no, Kitten is our friend Kate's nickname."

"He did ask about you and his older brother as well, and Dr. William Gaster who… is his father, isn't he?"

"Yes, he was here yesterday for a while."

"I hope they'll show up again soon. Mr. Skjal could probably use some familiar faces around him. He is staying in Intensive Care for now until we can absolutely nail down all the damage, and we encourage visitors, but only one or two at a time. We want to give him a reason to stay determined, and seeing friends and family should do that for him, from what little I've seen of his personality."

"Can… can I go see him?"

"He's being moved to a new private room as we speak. The nurses and his surgeon cleaned him up once he was awake and they wanted to double-check that he didn't have a concussion after we found a nasty bump on his head. Thankfully, it's just a bruise, probably from falling after he was shot."

"Likely…"

"Mr. Taylor… may I ask what happened? He wasn't the only one brought in, I believe."

"It… it's complicated. How much do you know about Papyrus' older brother?"

"Don Garrett Skjal? My little brother works for him, and I tend to be first pick for Snowdin Family members who need a neurologist."

"So you know about their business?"

"Intimately so. I go to Grillby's all the time and talk to former patients about it."

"Well… we've been fighting with that Sualy immigrant, Russo."

"Ah."

"G was shot, but it only hit his arm. The bullet went through and hit Papyrus full-force instead…" Mettaton had to stop any more tears from brimming. His eyes were already sore and red again.

"Did the Don get medical attention?"

"Not that I know of. He had to go save Kitten."

"Kitten as in Kate, right? … Not Kate Frisk? Surely not."

"The same."

"Shit…" Miles cursed. "I hope things turn out well… We'll do our best on this end, Mr. Taylor, I can promise you Mr. Skjal is getting the best care available. If there's anything we can't do, we'll call on help from New Home."

"That's good to hear. And I really appreciate it."

"Of course. Now… why don't we go see your partner? He ought to be settled in by now. And I'll be sure to get the room numbers of any others that were brought in from the Families for you."

"You're a huge help, Dr. Miles. Thank you."

After gathering up any other paperwork he needed, Dr. Miles led Mettaton down to the lower levels of the hospital, all the way into the deadly-quiet ICU where the worst cases stayed. Dr. Miles got a page from the front desk and had to pass Mettaton off to an ICU nurse, and soon Mettaton was standing before a green curtain. The nurse drew it open slightly, and in the little space Mettaton's eyes were assaulted with so many screens and machines that he didn't know how the nurses could possibly understand it all. There was a constant nurse for every patient in the ICU, and the one in this room was a woman in her thirties in blue scrubs, taking quick notes from the machines around her.

But Mettaton's gaze was drawn to the center of the room, to the bulky hospital bed where, propped up by the raised head of the bed, Papyrus lay motionless looking like absolute death. He was so incredibly pale, almost grey, and there were all kinds of tubes and wires attached here and there and his entire torso was locked in a brace to keep his injured spine correctly aligned to heal. His medium-length dark hair had been recently washed and combed, and his beard trimmed very close to keep out of the way. An oxygen mask obscured his mouth and nose, but Mettaton's heart skipped to see his strange amber eyes slightly cracked open, watching the heart monitor readout go by.

"Papy?" Mettaton asked softly, and the attendant nurse turned to see him and the other nurse waiting. Papyrus' eyes slowly trailed over to the source of the new sound, and when he saw Mettaton, a tiny smile appeared under that oxygen mask. The heart readout picked up, just a little faster.

"Are you Mr. Taylor?" The attendant nurse asked while the other left.

"Yes…" Mettaton murmured, unable to look away from Papyrus.

"Just try to keep everything calm and quiet for Papyrus. We don't want too much excitement yet. All I ask is that you try to keep out of the way when the nurses come around, just so nothing impedes us getting our friend here moved out of ICU in a couple days. I think he'd like a room with a window."

"I'm sure he would. I won't trouble anyone." Mettaton slowly stepped toward the bed, and Papyrus' left hand, mostly untethered by wires and tubes, rose a few centimeters to reach for his partner's hand. Mettaton took that hand in both his own and leaned in to press a kiss to Papyrus' forehead. "Hi, angel," Mettaton murmured.

"You can take his mask off," the nurse interjected, and Mettaton carefully pulled the oxygen mask down from Papyrus' face.

"M-… Met-…" Papyrus rasped, his lips and throat too dry to speak properly, and the nurse brought up a little cup of water with a straw, handing it over to Mettaton to let him care for the injured, younger man. They both needed that moment to be okay. As Papyrus managed to drink and finally licked his lips, he tilted his head over slowly and Mettaton reached up to caress his cheek. "Mettaton… mm… nightmare…"

"About what, darling…?"

"Couldn't… wake up… I'm… awake now…?"

"You are, I promise you are. It's all real."

"Good…" Papyrus closed his eyes then. "You're here… 's nice…"

"I am here, and I'm going to be here the whole time, my love, until you're causing havoc again with your brother."

"… Kit…ten?"

"I'm sorry, darling, but I haven't heard back yet. But your father and G both went to get her. I'm sure she's safe and asleep in G's arms right now."

"Yeah… Sans'll get her… Dad'll… keep them… sa-… s-…" Papyrus drifted off back to sleep before he could finish the thought, and Mettaton couldn't help a bitter little chuckle. It would've been so cute and endearing if not for the awful situation. From that moment on, Mettaton spent most of his time around the ICU, keeping out of the way, but always near if Papyrus woke and needed him. It was something of a help to the nurses too, as Papyrus would react far more to Mettaton than anything else, and his vital signs got a little stronger when he knew Mettaton was there. Eventually a kind nurse brought a chair for Mettaton, and that was where he fell asleep in the corner, where Papyrus could see him if he woke again.


	22. After the Storm Pt20

Kitten had been asleep for nearly sixteen hours now, save two short moments when she'd woken to eat a small meal on the nurses' insistence. The doctors had kept her awake for a while when they'd first arrived to make sure there were no serious issues with her concussion. They'd finally let her sleep when they found the worst damage seemed to be her broken knuckles, and even more so, her emotional trauma. All she wanted was to sleep and escape. Gaster and G hadn't left her side hardly at all, one of them always with her no matter what.

G had finally received proper medical attention for his twice-wounded arm, the bone having been cracked by the first shot and then further agitated by stress. Thankfully infection had been staved off, and now with some painkillers, G was able to rest with his arm in a cast. He was asleep in an uncomfortable armchair when he felt a hand lay on his arm.

"Son. Mettaton just called," G heard somewhere in the distance, and that made him slowly come to.

"Hm…?" G grunted, finding his neck hurt like hell from being turned at a bad angle in the chair. "Ugh, god… How's Pap…?" G knew he'd needed to stay with Kitten, but he'd felt so awful not being there for Papyrus in Snowdin. Gaster had tried to insist it was alright, that Mettaton was there and Papyrus would want G to be with Kitten, but it hadn't made the Don feel any better. They hadn't heard anything about Papyrus since first arriving in Echo. They only knew he had woken up and was in the Snowdin ICU.

"He's doing very well considering the situation," Gaster assured his son, sitting down in a chair across from him. "Mettaton said he's very lucid despite all the morphine, and he's making all the nurses- men and women- absolutely fall in love with him."

"It runs in the family…" G smiled weakly, but that faltered a bit when he asked the hard question. "Anything about… him being paralyzed?"

"On such heavy painkillers, he's not really sure if he can feel anything. He can hardly move at all, period. But that's not surprising."

"No, it's not… God, I should go visit him… But…"

"I'm going to go soon. You stay with our Kitten. She needs you above all right now. She needs to be told everything's okay by someone she'll believe."

"Kitten never believes a word I say… she always fact-checks me," G chuckled, and Gaster smiled.

"Well, you know me. I'll be brutally honest. She needs someone who can sugar-coat everything for a little while."

"Gee, thanks, Dad. Glad I'm so useful."

"You are, son. Don't hide anything from her, just don't give her the gritty details until she's got that Kate Frisk moxie back." Gaster reached out to lay a hand on G's knee. "Love her, Sans, but don't hold on too hard. She's going to be in a strange place… one where she doesn't want to be touched, but also wants to be held and never let go. Patience is the best form of love you can offer right now."

"You always have some wise little phrase for me, don't you?"

"It's not my wisdom, son. It's all your mother's. I learned from the best." Gaster took his cane and rose with a sigh before leaning down to hug his son by the shoulders. "You treat your Kitten so well… your mother would be proud of the good man you've become, despite our profession."

"I learned from the best too," G murmured, and that made Gaster chuckle. "You and Ma always treated each other like equals, never like one or the other ruled or was lesser. I might like to spoil Kitten sometimes… but she and I are equal partners."

"She might insist you give a little too much, but then again, she always swoops in and saves you from yourself. I'd call that a fair trade." Gaster stood up straight with a sigh, glancing out to see Jeanne and Sandra in the hall waiting quietly. The Packard and a few other cars were waiting to escort him to Snowdin. "Give Kitten my love when she wakes up. Hopefully you two and all of your people will be able to return to Snowdin before long. And I'll make sure to call and give you an update about your other people in the hospital there, if you can do the same for my people and Asgore's."

"Can do."

"Take care of yourself, Sans. For her sake." Gaster patted his shoulder before turning to step out, disappearing with Sandra and Jeanne.

By the time the sound of Sandra's heels faded, G was watching Kitten through his one half-open eye. She looked like hell, but it was impressive she even looked that good after all she'd been through. While checking her over for other injuries, the doctors had found evidence that she'd been raped. If G had thought he wanted blood before when she'd been taken, it paled in comparison to the vicious rage that had caused Jeanne to drag G out of the hospital altogether to cool down while Gaster remained by Kitten.

G's mind began to wander to all the other people hurt. They'd sustained a surprisingly small number of casualties despite Forde's massive arsenal. From a standpoint of logic, the payoff of cutting the Townsends down from a position of power was worth the losses. But to G, every person dead or hurt was an awful blow to go right on top of the previous fight near Pinedale. Doggo, Jeremy, and Rissa had all been found at some point, but G didn't know anything beyond the fact that they had all been shot. While he felt terrible for all of them, he felt the worst for Rissa and the complications she would face. She had only just found out a week prior that she was pregnant. She and Jeremy had been trying to start a family for a while, and then once it came within reach, this whole mess had happened…

G eventually pushed all those thoughts away. It hurt to think about his most loyal and all they sacrificed and risked for him. Most of his time as a Don hadn't been nearly this dangerous after he initially settled into the role and put down some others looking to take his mantle. It had certainly never been this insane since Kitten had come to work for him as a teen. G just wanted to go back to HQ, to Kitten's apartment, and curl up in her bed beside her. They'd sleep for a few days, and then get back to the good old, boring business that was so familiar and predictable. That was what G had taken for granted and now wanted most in life- predictability. Thinking of how nice and safe everything had been just a half-year before, G slowly dozed off again, not caring if his neck hurt anymore.

…

"Do you need anything before I go, honey?"

"I'm okay… Go eat… you need it."

"Alright… don't be afraid to send someone to get me. I'll be back soon." With a kiss pressed to Papyrus' pale cheek, Mettaton finally tore himself away to go get a meal for the first time in about twelve hours. He'd only finally agreed to leave once an Echo bodyguard he trusted was posted by Papyrus' room, out of the way of the nurses. Mettaton quietly made his way toward the elevators and out of ICU, up to the ground floor where the large cafeteria was. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, in-between the usual small rushes of lunch and dinner, but Mettaton still found a number of Echo Family members in the dining room, talking over coffee. They all looked up to watch Mettaton get a tray and gather up a sandwich, a fruit cup, a small salad, and a bottle of water before paying at the register. One man rose to pull out a chair, and Mettaton thanked him quietly before sitting down.

Mettaton was left with his own thoughts in the silence, and that was the last thing he wanted. So after unwrapping the sandwich, he asked, "What have I missed?" He'd specifically asked that no one bother him while he was near Papyrus. Mettaton didn't want his boys in the way of the nurses' work and he didn't want Papyrus to hear any potentially bad news.

"Blue called a while ago," one Echo named Leighton Kindred spoke up. He was one of Mettaton's two main secretaries, the other being Andre's old secretary now working with Blue while Mettaton was away. "He said things are going smoothly back home, and everyone got back from Streamtown. Seems like our people won, but of course there were some casualties."

"… Like who?"

"None of our officers were killed that we know of, but that was thanks to some of our little guys protecting them… At the moment, Dr. Gaster's consigliere can confirm ten Echos dead and fifteen hurt, but only minor wounds. No one from our crew is in critical care."

"I'm going to throw you all a huge party after this is done… You've all been working so smoothly these past few days no matter where you were stationed… I heard there was some kind of threat nearby earlier… what was that about?"

"Not so much a threat. One of Russo's boys came snooping around, tried to get information about Papyrus. We caught him on his way out."

"Good. And the other Families?"

"Core lost a handful of people but their firepower probably made the big difference. Snowdin lost more than anyone at about sixteen right now. New Home lost a couple, and a Peacemaker. Undyne was hit a few times, but only one shot got past her vest. She's doing fine. Most of her other Peacemakers are beaten up but they'll be fine. Gaster's untouched, and Skjal only got a little roughed up beyond the bullets he took in Pinedale."

"… And Kitten?"

"Blue didn't say much, said that Gaster only told him Miss Frisk was stable and she'd probably be up and around before long."

"I imagine that's not the whole story…"

"I don't think it is either, boss."

"But it's up to her what others know. She's been through a lot… And while this fight wasn't just for her, I'm sure she won't feel very good about what's happened in the battle to get her back. She was the final excuse we needed to try to exterminate Forde for good. But it looks like we didn't quite manage."

"Looks like… there was no sign of Forde around, but Skjal said he'd been nearby when they found Miss Frisk. Must've escaped in the confusion when Skjal got attacked."

"What happened?"

"He told Blue he'd gotten caught off-guard, and he probably would've been strangled to death if Miss Frisk hadn't jumped on the Townsend and beaten him to death."

"… So after all our heroics trying to save her… she comes out the real hero, saving her man at the end. What a love story…"

"We'll probably know more when Gaster gets here. Decker called in about a half-hour ago, said Gaster was coming back to see how Papyrus was doing for himself. Skjal and most of the others are sticking around Echo, within reach so that if the hunting parties find Forde, they can go help finish him."

"Good… then I suppose there's nothing we can do but just keep on waiting."

"How _is_ Papyrus, boss?" One of the other men finally asked tentatively.

Mettaton smiled to himself bitterly. "He's being his usual goofball self… just a little slower than usual. He even caught himself making a pun earlier and he asked the nurses to knock him out if he ever did it again."

"At least he's in good spirits, boss. The fact he's awake at all is amazing," one of the Echo women murmured.

"It is. He _is_ the Great Papyrus, after all. He's the best at everything he does, even at being hurt…" Those damned tears made his eyes sting all over again and Mettaton brought his hands to his face. Even if Papyrus was his usual self, there were no guarantees yet that he'd survive or that he'd ever walk again. He was still on death's doorstep and needed constant monitoring should his breathing stop. It had happened once before Mettaton had joined his side, and had grown very shallow for some time while Papyrus was asleep. That had scared Mettaton more than anything he'd ever faced in his life, those hours spent wondering if his sweet Papyrus' next exhale would be the last.

"Mettaton…" One of the women at the table murmured, an old friend and longtime bodyguard. She rounded the table to wrap her arms around her Don and she held him tightly while fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. The others watched helplessly as their confident, charming, and ever-bright boss fell to pieces. There wasn't a person in Echo Family that didn't admire Mettaton and he treated them all like true family members and knew every name and something unique about each person. It was hard not to feel like this was a blow to them too, especially considering it was Papyrus' life hanging by a thread. Everyone liked him whether they knew him personally or not. He was just so damned positive and loving of everything and everyone, and he made Mettaton absolutely glow whenever he was around.

Mettaton was quietly glad for the comfort and the protection his Family offered when he finally got a grip on his emotions, leaning back against the woman who held him, sniffling quietly. When he went back to Papyrus, he'd be strong and positive again. But right now, he could be weak and scared and broken. It was safe.


	23. Androphobia Pt21

When Kitten finally woke on her own, it was dark in her room of the hospital. The hallway light dimly shone in through the door, but her corner of the room was left in the darkness save the green glow of a heart monitor readout. In the opposite corner, his head turned away from the soft light shining on him, was G in an armchair. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Sitting up slowly, Kitten found herself in a hospital gown. It took a moment to remember she'd put it on after arriving in Echo, and she'd quietly asked the nurses to throw away Forde's clothes that Asriel had helped her dress in before.

Oh… Asriel. Her gaze lowered to her lap as she remembered that the younger man was probably somewhere nearby, being treated for his broken ribs and other injuries. In fact, plenty of people were probably still there in Echo Hospital. Some might've been transferred to New Home or Snowdin to help deal with the sudden influx of cases, or to have access to more advanced medical machinery for various problems. Kitten didn't know. She had been asleep for… God, she didn't know how long. Glancing at the wall, it was too dark to see what the analog clock said. Finally she pulled herself out of the bed and took off the wire that was monitoring her heartbeat. Kitten kept the thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders and slowly made her way toward G. She was stiff and it hurt to move at all, but it was all just bruises and minor cuts.

Kitten paused before G, and found herself… afraid. She was scared to touch him. It was completely irrational, she knew that, but a deep fear she thought she had gotten over was now coming back. Her fear of men that Forde and the Townsends had beaten into her now gripped her. It had only been in the background when she had reunited with G, but now that there was no other fear or relief distracting her… she was petrified.

This is so stupid, she thought. This was Garrett, _her_ Garrett. He would never hurt her or mistreat her. The worst he'd ever done to her was raise his voice, or leave some light bruises when their nights together got rough. But that was mutual. Why couldn't she just reach out a hand and touch his arm? Her voice wouldn't work either. She swallowed hard, but when her lips parted, no sound would come out.

"Kate?" Kitten started at a voice from the doorway, and she whipped around to see Wolfe standing in the hall. He'd come from Snowdin once he was sure his brothers would be alright, keeping an eye on G and Kitten.

Why did she suddenly feel trapped? Why was she scared of two of the most protective men she knew? Why did her heart race? Wolfe was one of only a small group who knew her secrets, and one of even fewer that she would trust with her life and G's. When Kitten drew her hands to her chest, Wolfe took a slow step in the doorway. "Kate?" He asked again. "You okay, sweetheart?" Kitten knew he only used terms of endearment like that when he was worried. All she could do was nod and return to her bed, willing her heart to calm and let her relax.

Wolfe's shadow remained still for a moment before he finally decided to step in and glanced around the corner at Kate. "Do you need anything?"

Kitten shook her head, pulling the blanket closer around herself. She needed water. She felt terribly dehydrated. But she couldn't find her voice through the turmoil in her mind. When Wolfe took a step toward the bed, Kitten froze and she didn't know why. He stopped short when her entire body tensed, and his dark brows furrowed with concern. "It's alright, Kate. It's just me."

Kitten finally managed a quiet, "I know…" Her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from sleep and abuse.

"You look terrified." Wolfe glanced around, but saw no threat. And then it dawned on him and he went still. He remembered when Kitten had first come back to work after Forde's abuse that first time. She had been so jumpy, even drawing her gun in panic when a new Snowdin member had approached her in the office. She hadn't let Grey touch her, the man who had previously been able to hug her or playfully use her head as an armrest whenever he liked. She wouldn't even lean on Wolfe when they were close to each other anymore. The only people she'd allowed within close proximity were… women.

Wolfe's eyes returned to Kitten. She didn't want to see the pity in his gaze, so she cast her eyes down to the bed. "Oh, Kate…" He knew. Kitten hated that he knew. G probably knew too. He was, after all, listed as a caretaker on her medical records and the doctors would've told him after the initial examination. Wolfe didn't come any closer without her okay. He knew his very presence was threatening to the abused woman. "If you need anything… anything at all… just let me know, okay? I'll be in the waiting room across the hall."

"Thanks…" Kitten whispered, finally feeling the fear lift when Wolfe stepped out and his shadow vanished around the corner. She hadn't really wanted him to leave… but she didn't want him to be near her either. It was completely irrational, she told herself. Arnold Forde was the one who'd hurt her, the one who'd… taken from her. She didn't need to be scared of her boys. They would never hurt her or make her feel so helpless. And yet she still felt like she couldn't even turn her back to G. He was fast asleep, not bothering anyone at all, and moreover he was her greatest protector. Why did his very presence feel so… suffocating?

Kitten sat in silence until the light of dawn came filtering in behind the shades over the window. Slowly it cast a bluish glow through the room. Kitten dared to leave her bed to open the shades as quietly as she could manage, and was met with a lovely view over Echo. The college campus loomed in the distance, and the darkness sinking to the horizon told her she was looking westward and the sun was chasing the night away from the opposite side of the hospital.

She wasn't sure how long she had sat in the dark, nor how long she stood there just watching the long shadows grow darker, and eventually begin shortening. Kitten was only brought back to reality by a deep inhale from G as he began to stir, and she unconsciously edged a little further from him to the opposite end of the windowsill. When he slowly sat forward and reached up to massage his stiff neck, Kitten found her gaze was frozen to him. Something just wouldn't let her look away, for fear that any slip in vigilance would result in her being taken advantage of again. But… this was G. Again, she asked herself, why? Of all men, why would she ever be scared of her Garrett?

As G opened his heavy eyelid, he glanced at Kitten's bed to find it empty. He suddenly forgot his aching neck and grew tense. Out of the corner of his one eye, he caught movement and sighed in relief to see Kitten on her feet next to the window. She was watching him. But… the look on her face was like that of a deer in headlights.

"Hey, sweetheart," G murmured, his voice deep from slumber. He knew she heard him, but she didn't answer. Dammit… it was just like before. The first time Forde had abused her and she'd escaped, she had been outright violent toward men. But it had been the second time that had really broken Kitten and made her too scared to even lash out. It had taken some time to find out Forde had been responsible for that second time, as Kitten had been caught unaware and was drugged. But she had never talked much about it. G had promised her nothing like that would ever happen again… But here she was, pale and beaten and horrified by the very thought of men all over again.

G stood, but he moved slowly so not to scare her, and he didn't make any move toward her. "Do you want me to go, Kate…?" Kitten shook her head slowly and G wasn't sure if she just didn't want to offend him, or genuinely wanted his presence. "I won't go far…"

"I don't want to be alone," Kitten whispered, surprising herself. Even if she was scared, having G's presence was the one assurance she had that Forde wouldn't be able to get her again.

"Okay," G nodded, glancing around them for a moment before he noticed Kitten shivering even under her blanket. "… You want my coat?" He picked up the long coat from where it lay on the back of the chair, and Kitten edged toward him a couple steps. He didn't want to push her boundaries, so he remained where he was and held it out at arm's length until she managed to take it by the collar. She shrugged off the blanket, only to pull it back around her shoulders again once she slipped her arms into the coat sleeves. It was a welcome relief, both for the warmth and the protected feeling she always got when she wore G's clothes.

G watched her get comfortable and he offered her a little smile once she glanced up at him again. He sat back down with a sigh and she returned to her bed in silence. They would discuss things later when she felt more comfortable in her own skin again.

Eventually a nurse came by, stepping in with a clipboard in his hands. Kitten was pulled from her thoughts immediately seeing him appear around the corner, but before she could get too worried about the oncoming conversation, G was up and out of his chair.

"Morning, Miss Frisk, it's good to see yo-" The young man paused when G laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I talk to you?" G asked quietly as Kitten looked on nervously, but with some relief at G's intervention.

"Uh… sure. But I need to-"

"I know," G nodded, directing the nurse toward the door. Both men stepped out and Kitten listened as G explained to the nurse that it was not a good idea to have men- especially strangers- around her at the moment. The nurse, being aware of Kitten's case, understood immediately and promised he'd send a female nurse along soon. G thanked him before going back into the room.

He glanced over to Kitten and saw she had drawn her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms. She was humiliated by her own fear. G wanted nothing more than to swoop in and wrap her up in his arms until all the hurt went away, but all he could do was stand there and look on. It was the only way he could show her that he would still protect her and not push her comfort zone.

By the time the new nurse came along, G was sitting in his chair again and Kitten hadn't moved. The nurse in green scrubs stepped around the corner with a clipboard and a Styrofoam cup of water with a straw. "Miss Frisk?" She asked softly. "Can I come over there?"

Kitten looked up slowly, nodding to the other woman. "Yes…"

"My name's Lily. Franz said you were a little uncomfortable having him around. So I and some other girls are going to be taking care of you for now." She let Kitten take the cup and then sat on the opposite end of the bed, glancing to G. "Sir, can I ask who you are? You were asleep last time I was around."

"Garrett Skjal. I'm Kate's, uh…" G wasn't really sure what to call himself now that he thought about it.

"Partner," Kitten murmured. That was perhaps the only word for it. They were companions in life and at work, and words like 'boyfriend' or 'significant other' were too… unfit for their personalities.

"Is it okay if he hears our discussion?" Lily asked Kitten, and the quiet woman nodded. Lily looked down at her clipboard and flipped up a page, the dawn filtering through the window offering enough light to read by.

"Okay, well… let's get the obvious stuff out of the way… You've got a couple broken metacarpals, the bones that connect to your middle and third finger. We found one fractured rib but it was fairly minor, and there's some minor bruising to some organs, but nothing that time and rest won't fix. Lastly... there's the issue of what else happened." It was a hard subject to broach for anyone, and G's heart broke to see Kitten hide her face again.

"There's… not a lot we can do about it, dear. But we can show you where to go for help. Therapy, birth control… things like that. Planned Parenthood is probably the first place you should consider once you're discharged. We can also bring someone in to talk to you, if you like."

"Maybe later…" Kitten's muffled voice answered.

"In your own time, of course. You're okay to be discharged anytime you feel comfortable. We haven't seen any issues that need monitoring here."

"I'd like to go home…" Kitten murmured, glancing up at the nurse.

"I don't blame you at all. I'll start getting the paperwork around, but your doctor will want to come talk to you, if that's okay. You probably don't remember him from the rush when you got here. I can ask him to send someone else if you're uncomfortable-"

"It's okay… whatever gets me out of here…"

"Sure. He'll bring you a prescription for some light painkillers too. I'll make sure one of the girls comes along with him so you don't feel too uncomfortable." Lily rose and stepped out to get to work, and Kitten was left still curled into a ball feeling absolutely miserable. It was going to be a long, long road to recovery this time, G thought as he watched over her. Why, of all people, did his sweet Kitten have to deal with this? Three times… There would be no more mercy for Forde. No keeping him alive because he was useful. If G ever caught sight of him again, no matter the time or place, there would be a bullet in the bastard's skull.


	24. Family Pt22

It was one of the toughest days of G's time as a Don. Surrounded by armed men from Snowdin, Echo, and New Home, the Dons of the three Families had gathered all of their people to lay the dead to rest. It had been a month since the fight in Streamtown. So many people had been hurt that most of the dead had been cremated so that everyone could heal and come put them to rest in their own time. Most of the lower-level folks had been buried or their ashes scattered. The Dons had attended every funeral they could manage. But now, the officers were being sent off.

G stood beside Kitten, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, both in dark suits and heavy coats. She had only just gotten comfortable being close to him and Grey and Wolfe again, but she needed them near to feel safe from other men. Just beside them was Asgore with his head bowed, Undyne at his side and Toriel beside her. To Kitten's other side was Mettaton, his hands resting on the handles of Papyrus' wheelchair. Papyrus had come through amazingly well, and while he still couldn't walk easily, he was by no means paralyzed. Blue was close beside them, and they were all backed by their inner circles. Well… most of them, anyway.

Gaster's white Packard drove up and the infamous weapon designer stepped out with his cane and his consigliere Sandra, soon followed by her assistant Ellie and Gaster's bodyguard Jeanne. Gaster approached slowly, limping more than usual as G noticed, and G welcomed him to join the group with just a nod. Gaster took a place beside Toriel, and soon the crowd of Family members parted to let a line of people through. Each carried an urn of ashes, finally bringing them from the crematorium for their closest loved ones after the month-long wait.

The urn-bearers were all either Peacemakers or friends to the survivors or both. Finally Asgore, G, Gaster, and Mettaton stepped forward, leaving their partners behind as they took up the duty they'd been given of presenting the urns to family and friends.

Asgore took the first, nodding to the Peacemaker who held it, and then he turned to face the crowd. The cold wind made his long, blond hair wave lightly as he lifted his head and spoke in a deep, purposeful tone, "Rory Alda, New Home Family."

A quiet sob arose from somewhere behind G, and soon a woman in her sixties approached, her husband's arm wrapped around her shoulders as she accepted the decorated urn that contained her son's ashes. Asgore welcomed both into his arms in a silent show of his condolences and appreciation for Rory's sacrifice, and Mettaton took the next urn.

"Orla Adal, Echo Family." Mettaton announced, his sad amethyst eyes watching as a teenage boy approached alone. Mettaton knew the boy. He was an orphan now, but Blue and Mettaton were making sure he didn't get thrown into a world of uncertainty by his mother's death. He'd stay with Echo Family and things would remain normal as possible. Mettaton hugged him tightly once he handed over the urn, and the boy clung to him tightly.

Gaster was next, and he came up to take an urn from a Peacemaker. "… Oswin Boyd," he called in a gentle but strong tone so that he could be heard. A young widow approached with a baby in her arms, and Gaster motioned Ellie over. The young woman knew the secretary well, and so let Ellie take the baby before Gaster placed the urn in the widow's hands. "Oswin… was one of the best I ever trained, Jen," Gaster murmured to the woman, and she hugged him tightly despite his reputation of being so dangerous. Ellie nodded to Gaster as the woman began to weep, and she and Sandra guided her away.

G swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as he took the first urn from his own Family, and he felt his heart clench painfully at the name engraved on the lid. "Sorry, old friend…" he whispered before turning around to look at the crowd. His eyes found the person waiting almost right away. "… Jeremy Adair, Snowdin Family…"

Rissa didn't approach immediately. It took Doggo's hand on her back to help make her come up and accept Jeremy's ashes. But accepting them meant accepting his death. Wolfe and Doggo both walked up with her, both having become her protectors now that she was a widow and would be a single mother in five short months. The baby had somehow come out unscathed from all the trouble, and it was the only hope Rissa held onto.

When she came to stand before G, she managed to look up at him as if begging for it all not to be true. G felt tears brim in his one eye, but he couldn't look away from her. Placing the urn in her hands, he muttered, "Rissa… I'm so sorry, sweetheart…" He felt like it was his fault. No matter how often everyone told him it wasn't, G knew Jeremy had died for him and the others in his inner circle. He'd died for Rissa, having exposed himself to the fatal shot when she'd been hit and he ran out to drag her into cover. Jeremy had taken his last breath in the hospital when nothing could save him, and all he asked simply to be with Rissa for his last moments. The hospital staff had brought her to him in a wheelchair, and she had held his hand through the fear, the acceptance, and right up to the last breath.

Now, G watched Rissa finally accept that Jeremy was gone as she hugged the urn close and her gaze returned to the ground. Her knees were quaking, and it was Wolfe that scooped her up so she didn't collapse. G leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead in silent reassurance that they would care for her through it all, and Wolfe carried her away toward the cars so she could sit down and get warm. Doggo followed close behind.

The four Dons handed out all the urns one by one, offering their love and support to each family that approached. They knew everyone who came up, and that was what hurt the most. By the time they were done, G had handed out the most urns as his Family had incurred the highest number of deaths. The last to be given out was from New Home. Asgore gave the urn of the one lost Peacemaker to Undyne. The man had no family, and no friends outside the Peacemakers who felt they could accept his ashes, so Undyne had stepped up and taken them herself. She would have a private ceremony with her Peacemakers, as they always did for their lost brothers and sisters.

The wake was to be held at Grillby's place, the speakeasy closed to usual business so the Families could come in and mourn in peace. The building was under heavy guard and was regularly checked for any explosives or threats, so it was safe for so many of such high position to be in the same place. It was mostly the inner circles and their immediate families, everyone else having opted to go home and grieve in private.

G sat down at his usual table with Kitten, Papyrus, Mettaton, and Blue to his right. Gaster, Asgore, Undyne, Toriel, and the still-healing Asriel were on his left. Glancing over his closest friends for a long moment, G finally broke the silence between them by murmuring, "I'm so sorry. All of you…"

"Don't you dare apologize anymore, brother," Papyrus was the first to answer, giving his older brother a stern glance. "We all did our best, didn't we? Maybe we haven't won the war yet… But this was a victory, not a loss."

"How can you be so positive?" Asgore asked quietly. He'd once been an optimist too, before his own family had fallen apart.

"Because being negative doesn't do anyone any good. It won't bring back the people we lost, and it won't make the future any better for the survivors. I'm positive because more people lived thanks to everyone trying their best and being efficient and working together! We would've lost a lot more if we'd bickered or hesitated, but we didn't. We fought hard. We're hurt… but we're alive. That has to mean something."

When no one spoke up to agree with him, Papyrus leaned back in his wheelchair. "… I would be dead if G or Mettaton had hesitated… Kate would still be missing, maybe even dead too, if the rest of you hadn't given your all to save her. Undyne would be dead if not for her Peacemakers. G would be dead if not for Kate… Everyone saved each other by doing their very best. And I'm proud of that, even if we did lose some wonderful people who gave absolutely everything for the cause and the people they care for. They're heroes. If that's not worth being at least a little positive about… I don't know what is."

Mettaton laid his hands over Papyrus' and leaned over to lay his head on Papyrus' shoulder. And it was Kitten that spoke up, of all people.

"He's right," she murmured, all eyes turning to her as her own remained downcast. "It's hard to be optimistic… but this all turned out so well despite the losses. We've got the Townsends reeling, Russo lost fifty men, and we're recovering. Honestly… Realistically, even… I couldn't have hoped for a better turnout."

"There will always be losses," Undyne finally spoke up in support, glancing between Papyrus and Kitten, and then over everyone else. "But it's our job as the survivors to make sure those losses aren't in vain. For the sake of the dead, and for the sake of those we fight to protect, we gotta recover and keep fighting hard until we can get back to the peace we all took for granted. Then, we'll bring real honor to the fighters who died on the way. There's nothing more glorious than dying for your friends and securing their victory through it!"

While no one could quite match Undyne's intensity, nods went around the table and Gaster was next to speak. "While I know nothing of honor and glory… I do know that Undyne is absolutely right. For the sake of their memory, if nothing else, we will continue to protect those we love, and we will win in the end."

"To the heroes, then," Papyrus chimed in again, lifting his glass. "And to all the people who saved our lives and the lives of their comrades." Everyone lifted their glasses in agreement, and Papyrus smiled at them all before they all drank and soon they rose to get food from the buffet that Grillby had set up.

After a half-hour or so, most members of the table split off to talk to others, leaving G, Kitten, Gaster, Papyrus, and Mettaton. To G, this was his family- his blood and the ones they loved. It felt wrong not to see his mother sitting beside Gaster, but G shook away the thought seeing his father actually looked rather lonely, seeing both his sons with their partners. G had been looking after Kitten, but had let her be for the most part so not to crowd her. Papyrus, on the other hand, was enjoying Mettaton's attention and care, giving it back tenfold in appreciation and love.

"So, you boys managed to find your partners," Gaster murmured, all four of the younger people looking at him. "I… I'm proud. You made good choices… Your mother would be proud too."

"… Thanks, Dad," G murmured, feeling Kitten's hand lay over his on the table.

"It means a lot to hear that," Papyrus added softly, Mettaton's hands resting on his arm.

"Well… We three haven't exactly gotten along lately…" Gaster took off his glasses to rub his one eye. "And your mother would be heartbroken to see we've drifted apart over such a silly thing as your two leaving Core Family… I don't even know why I was upset, really. I should've been proud that you two struck out on your own and became successful. I should've supported you."

Papyrus and G shared a glance. Gaster had kept on good terms with Papyrus, but not his older son. So G replied, "I could've been a lot less… spiteful. I could've visited more, like Pap…"

"Sans…" Papyrus murmured, watching his older brother glance down at Kitten's hand.

"I should've tried to keep us together as a family… It's not just your job, Dad. Ma was the one who kept everything together. But she's gone, so… we ought to split it evenly."

"I agree, son," Gaster nodded in return. "And now that we have two new members… I'd like us to try again."

Kitten and Mettaton each held their partner's hand a little tighter, and Gaster rose to come around the table. He pressed a kiss to Mettaton's temple before doing the same to Kitten after making sure she was alright with him being so close. "The four of you are all I have… I don't need to spend every waking moment with you… but it'd be nice to have dinner every so often, maybe get together for some holidays or celebrations."

"That sounds lovely," Mettaton murmured, and Kitten nodded in agreement. Each of the brothers smiled- one much more brightly than the other- and nodded too.

"I'm glad…" Gaster smiled down at all four of them. "But until then… I believe I have some friends to speak with. You four might as well. People who could use their leaders' reassurance." He patted each of his sons on the shoulder before stepping away, joined in short order by Sandra and Jeanne.

"Who knew it'd take a war to get the old man to open up again," G murmured, and that earned a little chuckle from Papyrus.

"I could say the same of you, brother."

"Yeah, yeah… I'm going to talk to the Broadmoores." G rose from his seat. "Do you want to come, Kitten?" He asked softly, and Kitten shook her head slightly.

"I'll be okay," she spoke just above a whisper, and G kissed her cheek.

"Alright… Let me know if you need anything," he told her before he stepped away.

Papyrus watched Kitten simply retreat within herself, resigned to waiting quietly as she'd done for nearly a month whenever she wasn't trying to work. He glanced up at Mettaton. "Um… Mettaton, dear? Could you, um…"

"Of course, darling," Mettaton kissed his forehead. He knew what Papyrus meant. Mettaton rose as well, going off to find Blue and leaving Papyrus and Kitten alone.

Papyrus reached out, but didn't touch Kitten. He laid his hand open on the table in welcome for her, and he smiled when she noticed and slowly placed her good hand in his own. Her broken hand was healing well, but still in a cast for another couple weeks, and she kept it in her lap. "How are you and Sans doing?" Papyrus asked softly.

"We're okay…" she answered simply. G was incredibly patient with her and she tried hard to show him love and appreciation in return, but she couldn't bring herself to do much more than kiss him chastely on occasion.

"It's been so nice seeing him with you. He loves you, you know. I know you two don't really say that to each other… but he really does love you." When Kitten didn't answer, Papyrus reached over with his other hand to pat the top of hers. "And he'll help you and wait for you for as long as it takes. All he wants is to see you happy and content."

When Kitten met his gaze, Papyrus' smile grew a little wider. "Dad is right, you know. You're family, just like Mettaton. We all love you. You take all the time you need to get better, just as long as you can be happy. That's all we want, and we'll help you get there if you just ask. Okay?"

"Thanks Papyrus," Kitten muttered, leaning over to lay her head on his shoulder. She had gotten over her fear of the Skjallars for the most part, but Papyrus was still surprised. He lifted a hand slowly to brush back a few strands of hair from her face, and he laid his head against hers.

"Anytime, Kate… Anytime at all."

"Can… can I ask you something?" her voice grew even smaller.

"Of course, dear."

"Do you think I should leave G?" That made Papyrus lift his head to look at her in deep concern.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"I just…" Kitten felt like shutting down, but she needed to get it out. "I think G would be better off with someone less… damaged."

"Damaged? Kate… you've been abused and hurt, but that doesn't mean you're less worthy of Sans' love, or anyone's love for that matter. Never think you're lesser because of what happened to you. It wasn't your fault, and you deserve to be loved. Sans alone ought to be proof of that."

"He should be with someone who isn't afraid to love him back…"

"Do you love him?" Papyrus asked sternly, making Kitten look up at him.

"What?"

"Do you love my brother?" Papyrus repeated, and Kitten lifted her head.

"Of course I care about him-"

"That isn't what I asked. Say it, if it's true."

"… Of course I love him," Kitten murmured words that she'd never even thought to herself. Neither had ever told the other 'I love you' and they'd never said they loved the other to anyone else either. They were together, that was true, partners in work and life. But… the phrase had never crossed Kitten's mind, and it had never crossed G's lips.

"Then that's settled. If he loves you, and you love him, you should stay and work through this with his help and support. It's much easier said than done, but you won't find anyone more willing to hold your hand and love you through it all, no one more devoted to you than my older brother."

Kitten felt tears prick at her eyes and she buried her face against Papyrus' shoulder. He was right, of course. Even if Papyrus saw the world simply and could make everything sound easy, he had a deep understanding of emotion and hurt, one that Kitten didn't know the origin of.

Papyrus wrapped his arms around Kitten and hugged her close with a soft smile. "It's okay to be scared and worried, Kate. Just don't let those doubts talk you out of loving the man who loves you more than anything in the world."

"I won't…" Kitten assured him, both her arms wrapping around him in return. She pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks, and let her head rest on his shoulder once more. Papyrus was one of those people that could make her feel safe, but he was so special to her, in a different way from G or Wolfe or Grey or any of the others. Papyrus could help the normally-emotionless woman make sense of her inner turmoil, and he could talk sense into her when it all grew too loud and confusing. A lifeline in a storm.


	25. Partner Pt23

The jingle of the keys hitting the tile countertop sounded so distant as Kitten watched G walk into the kitchen. His keys, wallet, and pocket book were discarded and he shrugged off his dark coat with a sigh. Kitten was half dazed, aware of G moving around her kitchen, but also lost in some realm devoid of thought. It was her default state since escaping Streamtown. Without really thinking about it, she hung up her own coat and took off her vest and tie. She unfastened the first couple buttons of her shirt til it was comfortable, and she slipped off her shoes before going to settle in the far corner of the sofa.

A few thoughts popped up here and there, but she paid them little mind until she began to think about her conversations with Papyrus, and then with Gaster. Gaster had caught her before she and G left the wake, and he'd made a simple request.

 _"I know this is a difficult time, Kitten. I can't even begin to understand how you must feel, or what you may not be able to feel. But… I just want to ask you one thing… Even if Sans and I don't always see eye to eye, it's likely that our greatest common ground is our love for you and Papyrus. And I know you and Sans have been a team for a long time. All I ask- and it's hard to ask, especially right now… Just… take care of my boy. You don't have to worry about him right now, we all need to care for each other at this time until things even out. But when you feel strong again... he needs someone to let him be weak."_

Kitten couldn't help replaying that last sentence over and over again in her mind. She and G were, at their best, both strong and very independent people that didn't show much vulnerability. G was more open because he was so secure in his position with his bodyguards- though that might have changed after all that had happened- but he was certainly never weak and he only allowed himself to be vulnerable with very specific people on incredibly rare occasions. Kitten couldn't recall a time he'd given up all his defenses with her, though she'd seen him completely trust everything to Papyrus before, and then to Grillby. With Kitten, he always held up one last wall not because he didn't trust her, but because he protected her just as much as she protected him. That last defense was for her.

Hearing two glasses touch the wooden surface of the coffee table before her, Kitten looked to her right to see G had settled on the opposite end of the couch. Normally he'd sit right next to her and wrap an arm around her, but he'd been so good about giving her all the space she could ask for since Forde. He's brought them each a glass of water, sliding hers closer. She accepted it with the quietest 'thank you' and took a sip. Her thoughts returned to what Papyrus had said. If she loved G and he loved her, they ought to stick together and work through all the roadblocks. Papyrus insisted G loved her… and she had said for the first time, out loud to Papyrus, that she loved G. There was still some level of doubt. There probably always would be. Kitten had a hard time believing that anyone actually liked or cared about her, even the man who had dedicated himself to her exclusively. Even after so many had come to G's call just for the sake of saving her, she still doubted it all.

"G?" Kitten found herself asking, the glass cradled in her hands on her lap as she drew her legs up and leaned on the sofa arm. She was practically in a ball and G took notice.

"Yeah?" He replied, watching the woman who'd once been so tough and unshakable get into a defensive little curl as if she was suddenly worried or scared. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He would normally reach out to her, but he stopped that urge for the sake of not invading her space without permission.

"Nothing's… wrong." G raised an eyebrow, turning to face more toward her.

"You look like you're af-"

"Do you love me?" Kitten interrupted him, meeting that one blue eye with a completely defenseless gaze. If the question hadn't made G stop short, that look would have. Those brown eyes were completely open to him, calm but curious, and still deeply hurt by all that had been happening around them. Love… he realized that he'd never actually considered it, and yet it seemed so obvious now that he did. So he told her.

"I love you," G finally spoke those words, so confident and at ease that Kitten was afraid to believe him. He sounded so secure in the statement. "I've never said it, have I?" G asked softly, and Kitten shook her head slowly. "I always tell you you're gorgeous and a genius and you're my girl… but I've never actually said that I love you…" G sighed, his heart clenching in guilt but also trembling with the knowledge that he'd actually said it.

"I've never said it either…" Kitten murmured, trying to drum up the courage to actually say it in front of him. Her heart was racing all of a sudden, both at a quiet thrill and panic that she might not be able to say it back now that she was alone with G.

"I suppose… I always thought it was implied. And those words can feel so cheap because people just throw them around like they're nothing…"

"I know what you mean," Kitten agreed. "I think the only people I ever believed were… I shouldn't bring that up…" She shook her head and curled up a little tighter.

"I'm not jealous of them, Kate. I know you loved Fiona and I know you and Mark still love each other even if you split up. I… I think that's beautiful, honestly." Kitten looked at G as he said that, and she was floored. Maybe Forde had ruined her, being jealous of Mark, but like Mark and Fiona, G never minded when she talked about caring for other people, because they were all secure in the knowledge that at that time, Kitten was their girl and she was faithful.

Kitten slowly sat up straight, and when G offered his arm, she slowly crawled over to his side of the couch and curled up once more against his side with his arm draped around her shoulders. Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his vest and she let her head rest on his shoulder. She should say it back, she thought. But she couldn't get her voice to come out.

G's fingers caressed her shoulder and his own head came to rest on hers. After a long silence, he asked, "Where did that question come from?"

"Papyrus… he wanted to know how we were doing… you know, together."

"Mhm."

"I didn't say much at first, but… you deserve to know… I asked him if he thought it'd be a good idea for me to leave you."

G's brows furrowed in sudden, deep concern but he forced himself to stay silent even when she looked up at him. She could see the worry just fine without him asking her if he'd done something wrong or if she didn't care for him anymore. Those questions would just make her guilty and uncomfortable, he thought as she studied his expression.

Finally she continued, "He asked if something was wrong between us, but I told him we were okay… I just… I figured you could probably do better. Find someone less… destroyed. Damaged."

"Kitten…" G murmured. She lifted a hand to his cheek and he went silent again. Her fingers began to smooth through his beard like she used to do, perhaps the most intimate gesture she'd shown since Streamtown.

"He told me you loved me… that I deserved to be loved. I told him you deserved someone who wasn't scared to love you back. And then… he asked me if I _did_ love you."

G lifted a hand to her own, daring to ask, "… What did you say?"

"It was hard to say… but… it was an obvious answer. I said I did. I do." G's heart skipped a beat but he didn't react outwardly except for going completely still. "I do love you," Kitten murmured, and G felt like an explosion went off in his chest. Why did those words suddenly hit him like a freight train? Why did such simple words that seemed cheap between other couples, suddenly seem like the most monumental statement in human history?

Kitten could read the shock and overwhelmed air about him, and G saw a little smile come to her face and everything in his world suddenly grew a tad sweeter. She hadn't smiled- truly, genuinely smiled- since Streamtown. A little smile of his own curled his lips and he heard a little chuckle from his partner that was so welcome and so lovely that he couldn't help hugging her tightly to his chest.

"We should've said it a long time ago…" Kitten murmured against his neck, hugging him just as tightly, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head.

"I think it's perfect timing…" G replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek and feeling her do the same in return. "We both needed something to break through all the bad things happening around us."

"You're right," Kitten agreed, knowing it was doing her a world of good after the stormy month of fear and recovery. There was still a long way to go, but she was at least comfortable here with her Garrett. And she showed him that with a proper kiss, much greater than the little chaste kisses she'd been able to handle lately. When he gladly leaned into her kiss, she wondered why she hadn't done that sooner too. While her phobia of men was still crippling most days, G was growing further and further from that fear, much faster than any of their male friends. And she didn't need to seek other women for comfort nearly as much as before. She could retreat to G and not feel overwhelmed by any male presence because he wasn't just a man, he was _her_ man, _her_ Garrett.

G cradled Kitten close for a full minute before she decided to settle in his lap and just relaxed there. Very little conversation passed between them after that, aside from the usual little questions about what they'd be doing the next day and such. Kitten hadn't been back to work all month, but she was beginning to look forward to getting back into the office once things were sorted between the Families and they resumed business properly. If she was honest, Kitten just wanted an excuse to stay by G's side again during the day while he was busy. That was half the reason she was his consigliere and secretary- because it meant they were together, and she was damned good at being his number-one defender and advisor. And he wouldn't have had it any other way.

…

By the time G woke to the distant sound of Kitten's alarm going off in her bedroom, his neck felt like it would never bend correctly again and there was some weight pressing down on him keeping him warm. He opened his one blue eye with a quiet groan at the pain and stiffness in his neck, glancing down at the source of the weight. Sometime during the night, G had laid down on the sofa and Kitten was laying half on top of him and partly, snugly tucked between him and the back of the sofa. Her head lay on his stomach and both her hands were holding onto either his shirt or vest. The alarm hadn't reached her, so G slowly, carefully slid out from under her and slipped away to her bedroom to shut the annoying clock off.

Sighing in relief at the silence after hitting the 'off' button, G massaged his neck and turned to glance into Kitten's mirror near the dresser. His hair was slightly disheveled and he was still dressed in black and white from the funeral the previous day. He'd even forgotten to take his shoes off before falling asleep. So they were the first things to go, along with his socks and vest and wrinkled, loosened tie. He untucked his shirt and changed from his slacks into a pair of jeans from his little stash of clothes in Kitten's dresser. She had moved most of her things to the closet and given him the dresser, and he supposed… that meant they were living together now. He barely ever used the bedroom near his office anymore.

Stretching his back and continuing to massage his neck, G pulled Kitten's blanket and a pillowoff the bed and brought it out to find she had stirred and shifted in his absence to lay on her side facing the back of the couch. G draped the blanket over her, and tossed the pillow aside for his own use in a moment when he came back to sit down in the armchair. First, coffee…


	26. Cousin Pt24

G was pulled slowly from a dream he instantly forgot when he felt a hand on his chest, and his one blue eye opened to see Kitten sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. She was in the process of getting dressed, having stopped after the slacks and undershirt and unbuttoned dress shirt to come wake him up. G sighed quietly as her fingers traced up through his beard and then smoothed his hair back. "Morning…" he murmured.

"You slept through the alarm again."

"Hm… great." G glanced over to see the clock on the nightstand read nine in the morning, and he sat up beside Kitten to rub sleep from his eyes. He was so damned tired and he knew it was his own fault.

"You're going to bed before midnight tonight," Kitten told him firmly though her voice remained soft. He'd been going to bed as late as three in the morning for a couple weeks now. He was so busy pouring over reports and papers about the search for Arnold Forde and the movements of Russo's group. The immigrants from Sualy had made a proper name for themselves in Delta, and were being called the Ridge Family for most of their operations taking place over Greenridge in northwestern Delta, north of Mt. Ebott and near the border of Arida and Sualy. G was monitoring everything they were up to as best he could. Meanwhile, the Townsend Family seemed to have disappeared into eastern Delta and there hadn't been much more than a couple sightings of Townsend boys for the past four months since the battle at Streamtown. Winter had passed and it was late April now.

Kitten managed to get G up and around, making breakfast while he trimmed his beard, showered, and dressed. By the time he emerged with his suit jacket and vest and tie hanging over his arm, Kitten was laying out plates and she paused to come tie up his tie for him. He was fairly hopeless at it despite having worn them for most of his life. G watched her hands move so smoothly and swiftly until the tie was neatly in place, and after she folded his shirt collar back down, her hands smoothed over his chest. Their eyes met for a moment and she kissed him before stepping back toward the stove. It was safe to say their relationship was mostly back to normal, to the point that Kitten was no longer even slightly afraid to touch him and she wasn't worried about being around their male friends anymore. Strangers were still unwelcome but she wouldn't panic at the idea of having to shake a man's hand or speak to him without G or their boys around.

Not much had changed in the grand scheme of things for the Snowdin Family. While their business in smuggling and bootlegging could still get dangerous, it was still going smoothly. With the Townsends' influence removed from Streamtown, G was sharing business in the area with the Echo Family. But all of the Families had taken harsh losses thanks to Russo and Forde, the greatest of which were the deaths of some of their best people. Jeremy was long dead and Rissa had resigned though G still saw that she was taken care of while she was pregnant. She was living with Wolfe and Doggo now, but she wasn't getting better.

Papyrus was recovering well. He still needed physical therapy and had undergone a couple surgeries, but the doctors predicted he'd be moving and running and walking normally by the end of the year. He was already mostly back to normal aside from some pain and the inability to stand and walk for long periods of time. He was splitting his time between Snowdin and Echo now, but he'd previously been living with Mettaton while he was still in the wheelchair.

Core and New Home Families had incurred the smallest losses, but Undyne was still out for revenge for her lost Peacemaker and Gaster was waiting quietly for the chance to destroy their enemies for what happened to his sons, Kitten, and Andre Taylor. G just wanted to get rid of Forde and Russo and be done with it, but he knew it would never be that easy. Others would take over Ridge and Townsend, others that might want revenge in return or simply be a nuisance to the allied Families.

That particular day, Kitten and G were going to meet up with Asgore, Toriel, Undyne, Alphys Asriel, and Mark Blaine. Mark had barely survived the battle at Streamtown but now that he was back in top shape, he couldn't even think of returning to the Townsends. So he'd asked G if he might find a place in one of the Families and both Asgore and G were willing to accept him. But more than that, they were going to discuss what Asriel was planning to do now that he was free of the Townsends, and Toriel and Asgore had something to announce alongside Alphys and Undyne. G had a fair idea of what those announcements were, but he'd kept his mouth shut.

Breakfast was in order with a quick check-in at G's office and a call to Papyrus who had recently come back to work. Kitten and G gathered up the Broadmoore brothers, Doggo, and some extra bodyguards and headed out spread over G's Auburn and two other cars. Asgore had insisted they meet in Echo, and then afterward they'd all go visit Blue and Mettaton.

The journey was quiet aside from some occasional conversation, G driving the Auburn, Wolfe driving the leading car, and Grey driving the last. Kitten busied herself looking over G's notes from the reports about the Ridge Family, though because they were alone in the Auburn, she had chosen to sit in the middle seat at G's side. She was enjoying the quiet whirr of the engine and G's arm wrapped around her shoulders. It was peaceful and things were going smoothly. That was all she wanted.

…

"I wish you could've come, darling. But I know you have work to do. It's going to get lonely not having you around all the time." Mettaton lounged on a sofa in Blue's office next to the phone, listening to Papyrus on the other end. Blue was out taking around some files to the appropriate people before G and his entourage arrived.

 _"It won't be forever, M. Once all of this business with Russo and Forde is over, I'll let Sans know our plans."_

"I hate to take you away from Snowdin and your brother…" Mettaton sighed, laying his head on the arm of the sofa.

 _"But if I'm with you, I'll be halfway between Sans and Dad, and I can still help Sans by looking after you and Blue. You're not taking me away, I'm just moving to be closer to you."_

"You're sure you want to?"

 _"Absolutely! As long as you'll have me, of course."_

"I'd like nothing more, my love. I just worry, you know?" Mettaton glanced down as he drew a pocket watch from his vest. Papyrus had given it to him some months ago to complement his style, and Mettaton used it every day.

 _"I'm not immune to worry myself. But I think we're on the right path. Sans has his own life with Kitten, and I'm looking forward to more of my own with you."_

"It makes me so happy to hear you say that, dear… And once all the trouble's done, you and I are going to take a little vacation together. Just us." He smiled to himself at that. Perhaps they would go traveling.

 _"And then maybe you'll finally take me seriously when I say I want to marry you."_

"Oh, Papy… you know that's not legal," Mettaton chuckled.

 _"Civil union, then, or whatever they call it. Even if it's as simple as putting a ring on your finger with a little party afterward."_

"I never thought you weren't serious, you know… I just wasn't sure if you really knew what you were asking."

 _"How so?"_

"Marrying another man? And a Don? You must be crazy."

" _Maybe I am. But that's beside the point. And you still haven't actually said yes."_

"I'll say it when I'm ready, but it's not a no," Mettaton replied with a smile.

 _"Mhm. I see."_

"You see what?" He raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

 _"You're so hopelessly in love with me that you can't process these feelings!"_ That set Mettaton laughing and soon Papyrus joined in.

"Oh, Papyrus. You know me so well," Mettaton chuckled as he caught his breath. "But give me some more time to process and we'll see what kind of husband you can make."

 _"I'll make the best husband, you'll see. The best the world has ever known… well, at least the best I can be."_

"As long as you love me just the same, Papy, you'll be more than I've ever dreamed of." Mettaton could just imagine how much Papyrus was blushing on the other end. "And I'll keep right on dreaming until it's a reality. But til then, I'd better go get some things around for when your brother shows up."

 _"Right. I need to get back to work… I love you, Mettaton."_

"And I love you, Papyrus. Bye, sweetheart."

 _"Bye!"_

Mettaton sat up and hung the phone back on the hook with a sigh, then laid back once more on the sofa. He could hardly believe he had a partner. He, Mettaton Taylor, had a lovely man that loved him deeply and wanted to marry him. A gorgeous man with a huge heart that would go to the ends of the earth for him, as well as just lounge at home and listen to the radio. Papyrus Skjal wasn't perfect, but he was everything Mettaton wanted and needed. The love Mettaton felt for Papyrus was so easy despite how hard it'd been to actually fall in love. And sometimes that love could be terrifying when one of them was threatened and the other came with guns blazing to their rescue, literally and figuratively.

When Blue returned, hanging up his dark grey jacket and smoothing back his pale blond hair, he paused seeing Mettaton laying on the sofa. "M?" Blue asked softly, but Mettaton was lost in thought. Blue approached slowly, and finally Mettaton noticed him when he asked again, "Mettaton?"

"Oh," Mettaton sat up. "I'm sorry, love. I was… thinking."

"Papyrus?"

"How do you always know?" Mettaton's strange light purple eyes met Blue's own, a startlingly light shade of blue. Mettaton's darkly-painted lips curled into a smile and he reached out his long arms to pull the much younger man into his lap. "How are things? We haven't really talked about you lately."

"I'm okay," Blue answered simply, and Mettaton kissed his cheek.

"Oh, come on, Blue. Have you been up to anything on your own? Any new hobbies? Better yet… how are things with Ren?" When Blue turned red, Mettaton laughed and hugged him tightly. "That well, huh?"

"It's… okay… I think… I guess." Mettaton knew Blue all too well, and grew suddenly excited realizing that Blue might be getting closer with their friend Ren Styles. She was a shy little thing, but she had a beautiful voice and was as pure as the driven snow in so many ways. She wasn't involved with the Families, but her friends in Echo Family regularly went to listen to her sing at their speakeasy in town, a sister establishment to Grillby's. Blue had a jazz band that often played with her, but even when they didn't, he was at more than half of her performances.

"So… when are you taking her out?" Mettaton asked and Blue had to really struggle not to hide his face.

"She's busy… and so are we…"

"Blue, you'll regret it forever if you don't try. And I'll do it for you if you won't."

"What if I mess up?" Blue asked softly, glancing to Mettaton's kind eyes. "What if I make a fool of myself…?"

"She's always adored you whether you've tripped over your own feet or delivered a perfect bass solo. And I know you feel the same about her. So just talk to the girl. She loves your music, but a piano doesn't have enough letters to spell out 'please date me.'" Mettaton let his arms drape lazily around Blue's shoulders and he rested his chin on the top of Blue's head.

"I don't… know how to ask…" Blue murmured.

"You walk up to her with your usual smooth and charming demeanor-"

"I'm not either of those things…"

"-And you take off your hat and ask her if she'd like to have dinner with you. You should cook for her- she'd appreciate that and you'd get to show off that you're more than just a pretty musician."

"But… that'd mean inviting her over… to my house… alone."

"Mhm. We've done that before, Blue. We've all been friends for years."

"But we were still living together back then… and you were there."

"Only half the time. You can do this. You're a lovely host and she's just as shy. Take some initiative, but don't compromise that lovely little shy Blue she's adored for years." Mettaton slowly ran a hand back through Blue's nearly-white hair. "You can do this," he repeated. "You'll never know if you don't ask."

"Okay… I'll… I'll try."

"Good boy… what am I saying, you're nineteen. Good man." Mettaton kissed his cheek again and just held him for a long moment. "It's hard to believe you're almost twenty… I feel so old sometimes."

"You're only twenty-seven."

"Going on ninety," Mettaton chuckled. "But I think Papyrus will keep me young, at least at heart."

"I think he will too," Blue nodded. "If only because you'll have to keep up with him when he's still bouncing off the walls at sixty."

"He _is_ pretty energetic… in more ways than one." Mettaton smirked and Blue made a sound of disgust despite his smile.

" _M!_ " Blue tried to get away but his cousin had firm hold of him.

"Get used to it, little man, you have to learn sometime!" Mettaton wrestled him back on the sofa and hugged him tightly, laughing as Blue struggled and tried to pry his arms away in between his own laughter.

"Gross!" Blue managed to slip away and went bounding across the office toward the door with more energy than Mettaton had seen from him in a while.

"It's gross until you find out how fun it is!" Mettaton called after him and Blue yelled something back along the lines of 'I'm staying a virgin forever!' as he went down the hall. Mettaton sat up against the arm of the sofa, watching the open door for a long moment before chuckling to himself and standing. He had some things to do before the others arrived, and maybe he'd get in a little more teasing with Blue before then.


	27. Meetings Pt25

G settled at the large round table in Emberwater speakeasy with a long sigh, glancing to his right as Kitten settled at his elbow as always with a notepad and pen already in hand. They had arrived first, leaving their bodyguards and the Broadmoores to scope out the brewery and bar. Kitten liked to be punctual and G didn't mind the quiet wait. It was nice to not have anything to do, even for just a few minutes.

"Kitten," G murmured, leaning on the table before him as she looked over and brushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Once all this is over and Russo and Forde are six feet under… you and I ought to take a vacation."

"What did you have in mind?" She asked quietly, her eyes returning to some of the notes she'd been studying. G was surprised she hadn't insisted she would be too busy for breaks.

"Somewhere far away, where no one speaks our language. Somewhere you can see the stars at night and just drink and lay around for a week before you even bother to explore."

"That can be arranged," Kitten nodded.

"No schedules, no people… We could rent a little cabin or something so we don't have to be stuck in some room in a hotel. Maybe we could bring friends along, but we'd all just laze around and not feel obligated to see each other before five in the afternoon."

"That'd be great," Kitten's usual neutral expression cracked as she sighed quietly. She leaned over and let her head rest on G's shoulder. "We could just stay in bed all day at first, not even talk or open the curtains… Then whenever we feel like it, we could just wander off and explore all night."

G turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead and he took her left hand in his right. "Soon, sweetheart. We'll figure this out."

The door to the little meeting room swung open and Kitten lifted her head to see Mark Blaine step in, his thick beard and hair neatly trimmed. He looked so uncomfortable in his handsome dark blue suit, Kitten just had to chuckle to herself. His blue eyes turned to her and a little smile cracked his hard face. "Hiya, lass."

"Hi, Mark." Kitten rose and he turned to greet her properly, surprised when she wrapped her arms around his barrel chest and hugged him tightly. They hadn't seen each other in person since he'd been shot point-blank in the fight at Streamtowne, but Kitten had kept in touch by phone as he'd recovered, and had made sure he was looked after seeing as he was going to join one of the Families. It would be decided that day whether he'd join Snowdin or New Home.

Kitten stood up on her toes to kiss Mark's cheek and he chuckled almost nervously, glancing over at G who watched them with a little smile. "Don't worry about me," G assured him. "I know she loves you."

"I, uh… well. Normally men don' take it well when their lass gets so comfy with another lad, y'know?" Mark shrugged slightly and Kitten hugged him a little tighter.

"G isn't the jealous type," Kitten promised him. "If he was, the Broadmoore brothers would've been dead by now." She drew Mark over to the chair beside her own. "How have you been since we last talked?"

"Jus' tryin' to hold my own lately. Had to take up a job t'hold me over til now an' help pay those hospital bills."

"Those weren't taken care of?" G asked with a raised eyebrow. "Asgore and I agreed early on we'd cover those. They must've been overlooked. Kitten, write that down for me. I'll handle it when we get back."

"Uh, tha's real nice of ya, but-"

"No buts," Kitten muttered, making a note in the corner of a fresh sheet of paper. "You got hurt looking after me, and you're joining the Families. We'll cover it."

"I can't take tha' kind o' money…"

"Yes you can, and you will. Consider it a welcoming gift, and a thank-you," G told the must larger man, his expression growing softer. "You made sure Asriel and Kate made it out alive, and you were willing to lose your own life in the process. You deserve it."

Mark scratched his beard out of nervous habit, looking down at the table as he was humbled to the core. "I… don' know what t'say, Don."

"Just keep looking after our Kitten," G told him with another smile. "She may be with me nowadays, but she obviously still means the world to you."

"Tha' goes without sayin', Garrett."

"Okay, you two," Kitten shook her head. "I'm not fragile, I can handle myself."

"We know," G nodded.

"It's like I used t'tell ya, love," Mark said with a handsome smile down at the younger woman. "Y'could take on the world if ya wanted. But when yer tired, we'll take it on for ya."

"It sounds like you have some staunch protectors," a feminine voice spoke up, and they all looked to the door to see Toriel standing there in a lovely yellow sun dress, handbag at her side and light heels clicking on the stone floor as she stepped forward.

"Tori," G stood, smiling as he saw Asriel and Asgore appear behind her. "Are Undyne and Alphys with you too?"

"They'll be along soon," Tori murmured as Asriel stepped in. She reached over to ruffle his short blond hair fondly, giving him a little nudge toward the empty side of the table. G also caught her sharing a glance with Asgore as he pulled out a chair for her. It wasn't the usual annoyance with her estranged husband. It was more like… a quiet, mutual respect. Asgore then rounded the table to meet G with a firm handshake.

"Thank you for coming, old friend," Asgore murmured. "Once Undyne and Alphys arrive, we have some things to discuss. And hopefully you and Kate can properly introduce Mr. Blaine."

"Already here!" Undyne's voice echoed down the outer hallway, and soon the lean, tall Peacemaker Captain strolled in with a much shorter, curvy woman holding onto her arm. Like most of them, Undyne was in a suit, her own all blacks and whites. The little blonde beside her, Dr. Alphys Carter, was dressed in a simple light pink blouse and a long dark skirt with flats, but she still had on her lab coat which inferred she had probably been working just before she'd come along with Undyne to the meeting.

"Ladies," G greeted Undyne with a handshake as well, and leaned down to kiss Alphys' cheek. The tiny woman blushed lightly, always embarrassed even if G was a longtime friend.

"H-hi, Garrett," Alphys murmured. "Sorry if we're late… I was held up by a colleague."

"You're right on time," G assured her, turning to pull chairs out for the pair. "Mettaton and Blue would've come, but they have some things to sort out. So if any of you are free after this, you're welcome to come with us to meet them for lunch. But anyway…" G resumed his seat beside Kitten and Asgore settled beside Toriel, Asriel at her opposite side.

"Shall we start with Mr. Blaine?" Asgore suggested, all eyes turning to Mark. Despite rivaling Asgore in size, Mark suddenly felt very small with so many people of power looking at him, friendly as they were.

"Kate, dear, I think it's best you introduce him," Toriel suggested, seeing the deer-in-headlights look on Mark's face.

Kitten reached over to lay a hand over Mark's in quiet reassurance. "Everyone, this is Markus Blaine. You might remember he was with the Townsends, in debt to Forde. But he helped Asriel and I escape and protected us on our way out of the city… We're lucky he's still with us after what he went through to protect Asriel and I." Everyone could see Kitten's expression grow soft as she looked up at Mark. Kitten was less guarded around this particular group, all of them being dear old friends and confidants. "He's also my ex, but we've always been close friends since then. After all he's done, he obviously can't go back to the Townsends and he never wanted to be with them in the first place. Asgore and G agreed that he was welcome to join the Families if he so chose. So it's time to decide who he'll be with."

"As I understand it, Mr. Blaine," Asgore folded his hands on the table, "you're quite the trainer, and something of a weapon aficionado. Both Garrett and I could use someone like you to train new people and work with Dr. Gaster when he adds to our arsenals with new weapons. I had previously thought to ask you to join me, but I have since changed my mind. You are Snowdin material. You see, I have my Peacemakers and my inner circle still intact after Streamtown, short one fine Peacemaker who joined the fight out of loyalty to Undyne and myself, and also a deep respect for Kate and Garrett. Snowdin, however, has lost two of its best- one to a bullet and one to heartbreak. And Garrett doesn't have Peacemakers. Seeing as you are a close friend to Kate and Garrett seems to count you as a friend as well, and Snowdin could use such trusted people, I think you should join them unless you would feel more comfortable in New Home."

"If I'm honest, sir," Mark said quietly. "The city's no' really my place, an' yer right. Snowdin lost a lot more than th'other Families. So I guess my choice is pretty clear."

"Then you'll be needing this," Kitten muttered, pressing a small, dark object into Mark's hand. It was a lapel pin of a black stone with a white snowflake carefully set into the center. Snowdin members didn't always wear them, but all of them owned one to wear to speakeasies and meetings and in anticipation of battles so that they could be easily identified by allies. G and Kitten and their inner circle always wore theirs.

"Congratulations, Mr. Blaine," Asgore gave the other broad man a kind smile.

"And welcome to the Family," G added, watching as Kitten gave Mark's hand a squeeze. The man was thoroughly overwhelmed with how welcoming everyone was, accepting each nod and welcome from the others with quiet thank-yous and a smile.

"And now… Asgore, you had some things to share?" G asked as the table grew quiet again.

"Yes… Tori?" Asgore looked over to his wife and she nodded.

"I'm sure it's fairly clear that Asriel is no longer attached to any Family," Toriel spoke slowly. "However… he and Asgore and I have had some time to ourselves, just the three of us… time to talk over what has happened while Asriel was away and what happened that caused him to leave. Asriel has been living with me, but he has been… restless. While his life with the Townsends was rough and dangerous and he has been forced to become a deadly fighter, he has found that he is suited to our line of work and he's decided to reenter the business as a New Home member."

"And of course I accepted him without hesitation," Asgore took over as Toriel looked to him, and both parents then glanced to Asriel who was quietly looking down at the table. "Even if it was out of necessity, my son has become a fine defender and businessman and he's made a great addition to my inner circle already. He's been working with Undyne to learn the finer aspects of New Home's operations, and he's doing remarkably well. However… I am aware that he will never be the same after Arnold Forde. And so… I asked Tori to rejoin us as well, if only to work with Asriel."

"I have accepted, and will be moving back to New Home shortly with Asriel." Toriel reached out to lay a hand on her son's shoulder. "From this point onward, Asgore and I are working partners together and with Asriel, and I will be taking a much more active role in the efforts against Townsend and Ridge."

"Asriel?" G asked quietly. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

"I'm okay," Asriel looked up, seeing G's concern and Kitten's understanding gaze. "I ran away because I thought the Families were all just criminals, and Dad was one of the worst. But I was wrong. I've seen the difference between business and tyranny. And… if only for the sake of everyone left behind after the fight in Streamtowne… and for Kate… I want to get rid of Forde and Russo. I want our people to feel safe again, and I don't want innocent people to get caught up in that kind of fight ever again because of men like Forde. I'm still pretty shaky with this new normal, and not having to threaten people to save my own skin. But I'm okay, and I'll be even better when I can sleep knowing Russo and Forde are never coming back."

"Then welcome is in order for you too," G nodded. "And a welcome back for your mother."

"Things can't ever be what they were way back when I didn't know who my parents really were…" Asriel looked to both Asgore and Toriel. "But I think this time, now that we're all open and honest with each other from the start… It's going to work." He leaned into Toriel's side as she hugged him close.

"He's pretty fantastic, and having Tori around has lightened a lot of moods," Undyne added in. "A lot of people missed her, and we could use her brand of gathering information. She's already brought in more about Russo in a few weeks than our other boys could in months."

"Good. We need new information," Kitten nodded. "Papyrus is great, but he's no Toriel."

"Perhaps I ought to take a little time to teach him, then," Toriel mused, and looked to Undyne. "Now… don't you have something to say too, Undyne?"

"Uh… maybe." Undyne grew suddenly nervous and tense, and everyone smiled as Alphys reached over to take Undyne's hand in both her own.

"You don't have to be nervous," Alphys murmured.

"Says you. You're always nervous," Undyne muttered.

"Do you want me to say it?"

"… Yeah…"

"Everyone," Alphys looked up with a wonderfully happy and adorable smile on her lips. "Undyne and I are getting married." There were smiles all around and a chorus of 'finally!' and 'congratulations! In response and Undyne felt a weight lift off her shoulders seeing how accepting everyone was. Even Mark seemed happy for them.

"I guess… I guess I was worried some of you might not be too thrilled," Undyne chuckled nervously.

"Undyne," G laughed. "My little brother is seeing another man and none of us have ever minded that. What makes you think we'd be bothered?"

"I dunno, just… you know how people are."

"We do. And I'm glad you told them all to mind their own damned business," G told her with a chuckle.

"Well, we're not exactly getting married," Undyne muttered. "It's kinda illegal… but you know, that whole partnership, civil union, whatever thing. Mettaton knows already, and he's gonna help us set everything up. We're gonna return the favor whenever he finally breaks down and gets hitched to Pap."

"Shouldn't be long," G grinned.

"I hope you'll bring me in on it too. I just love weddings," Toriel smiled, and she and Alphys got to chattering right away about everything from a dress to flower arrangements. More serious business would follow along soon after, discussing Russo and the Ridge Family and the whereabouts of the Townsends. Conversations continued until G glanced at his watch and announced they needed to leave for lunch, and everyone decided to follow to meet up with Blue and Mettaton. They would share all the news again with the cousins over a meal, and listen in return for what was new with the Echo Family. G couldn't help but worry that this little slice of peace wouldn't last much longer before they really got down to business. But he was content to enjoy it with Kitten until duty called, and they'd make their vacation plans once Russo and Forde no longer darkened the Families' doorsteps.


	28. INTERIM MESSAGE 3: Art & Fanart!

Hey, friends and muffins!

If you only follow me here on FFN, you're missing out on a lot of art for Snowdin Family and CORE Data! I regularly upload digital paintings of characters from the stories, including a Don G!Sans, Mettaton, Papyrus, Frisk, and hopefully Kitten and Lucida soon! If you'd like to see them, consider following me on Tumblr, DeviantArt, and Twitter! My main gallery is on DeviantArt, but I usually upload my work onto the other sites too. And if you enjoy watching the creation of these paintings, consider following me on PicartoTV so you know when I stream! I won't be streaming much this summer, but until then, I'll be on every so often!

FFN doesn't allow the posting of most links, but thankfully my username is the same everywhere! Just search for TaiylorWallace or taiylorwallace on the mentioned sites! And if you do come to follow me from FFN, let me know! I'll be happy to have you.

I'm also taking commissions as of late, details for which you can find on my DeviantArt journals. I take DA points and .

I'd also like to take this moment to say thank-you to my partner in crime Trefoil-Underscore, the writer of CORE, aka Ambertale. She has been my most vocal fan of CORE Data, and she's made fanart of it! She also regularly joins me in my streams and we plod around after each other on Tumblr from time to time. She's pretty fantastic and I highly recommend CORE. Sans is a sassy little bastard, Grillby's a sassy big bastard, and Gaster is a special kind of lovable airhead. I've done a commission based on the story, as well as fanart of the Crawlers!

I want to thank all of you who follow CORE Data and Snowdin Family as well (and if you follow one, I think you'll like the other too). I can't describe to you how much it means to me every time I see a new review with someone gushing about the story, or see a new favorite and especially new follows! I read every comment and I love to talk to my readers, so feel free to speak up! If you join me on my other sites where it's easier to talk to you, I'd be glad to chat with you about the stories! Trefoil knows I like talking about them especially.

Have a fantastic day, and good luck to my fellow college students stressing over finals! I'm losing my mind over here, but all I want to do is paint and write. See you guys around, and enjoy the new chapters!

-TRW


	29. Respite Pt26

"G, Blood and Sand?" Mettaton's voice from the bar interrupted the conversation around the round poker table. G looked up from his cards with a nod.

"As per usual."

"You're so boring, old man. I wish you'd try something new," Mettaton sighed with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm thirty-nine, Mettaton. That's hardly old."

"It's old compared to the rest of us. Really, Kate, you could've picked someone more interesting. And younger." the Echo Don teased with a handsome grin as beside G, Kitten rolled her eyes.

"You robbed the cradle too, M. And just because your boyfriend is a jack of all trades doesn't mean G isn't interesting. He's just… understated." Mettaton scoffed as he gathered up a bunch of bottles and expertly began mixing drinks for them all.

"Hey, now, Papyrus is only six years younger. You're… what, almost twenty years younger?"

"Seventeen," Kitten corrected.

"Close enough. I'll still never understand. How can he even keep up with you?"

"Actually, I like that he slows me down a little," Kitten mused, making Mettaton laugh as he brought over Kitten and G's drinks. "And he's experienced."

"In more ways than one," Mettaton commented, earning a chuckle from G.

"Exactly," Kitten agreed, completely unbothered by the clear insinuation.

"Well, at least you're honest. So you keep him around because he's good in bed and… what, boring?"

"I prefer 'calm,' but he can be an adventure when he feels like it," Kitten shrugged.

"Gosh, I'm so flattered," G said dryly but with a little smile. Mettaton caught a tiny smirk between the two, and he knew that when his back was turned, Kitten would lean in and kiss her Don to make all the teasing worth it. While their Kitten was still reserved in public, even more so since her run-in with Forde, she had opened up a bit more in front of friends and her relationship with G had become more apparent in how they treated each other. And while they still didn't seem to have a name for what their relationship was, be it dating or courting or simply 'seeing' each other, their group of friends knew now more than ever that Kitten and her Don were partners in business and life.

"So tell me about this Mark Blaine, Kate." Mettaton asked as he mixed up a drink for himself and poured a glass of soda for Blue, who would return shortly from a phone call. "You mentioned he's an ex of yours."

"There's not much to say, honestly. He's a normal man, but he has a big heart. He took good care of me and he always worked hard. He's one of the best men I know, honestly," Kitten said with a nod as she sat back, laying her cards face-down on the table as they waited for Blue. When G snorted, Kitten shot him a look. "Shush."

"Jealous, Garrett?" Mettaton grinned, and G shook his head with a laugh.

"Of course not. I told Kitten a long time ago that if I wasn't what she wanted, I would just have to deal with that so she could find someone better for her. I'd be a little jealous if she left me for him, or anyone for that matter… but you can't force someone to be happy with you. It has to be mutual." That earned G a kiss in full view, and Mettaton lifted a hand to his heart.

"That was beautiful, Garrett," he teased, but he knew G meant it.

"Shut up," G chuckled as Kitten wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hand rested comfortably on the small of her back and Mettaton's smile grew warmer at the sight.

"I wish you two hadn't taken so long to open up. You're adorable."

"Don't get used to it," G warned with a grin. "Kitten's a little buzzed. She never does this."

"I've had two drinks," Kitten corrected, but G shook his head.

"Four, technically. Those were doubles."

"Whatever," Kitten sighed, laying her head on his chest.

"What happens when she's drunk?" Mettaton asked mischievously.

"G, don't you dare," came Kitten's muffled warning against his shirt.

"Well, she tends to speak her mind-"

"Garrett."

"And she gets pretty touchy-feely-"

"Garret Skjal."

"And I usually don't sleep," Garrett grinned, wincing with a laugh as Kitten's nails dug into his shoulder. "Ow, dammit. It's all in good fun, Kitten, come on."

"Good thing tomorrow's Saturday, then," Mettaton giggled, giving G a wink and making the older man laugh.

After the others had all gone home, G and Kitten had remained at Mettaton's insistence. Mettaton and G were old friends, having known each other since G had become a Don and earned Andre Taylor's respect. When Kitten had been added into their friend group, Mettaton had fallen in love with the way she carried herself and how independent she was. But Kitten could also be incredibly gentle and loving. Mettaton had learned of her capacity to love early on, when Kitten had come charging in to save him from an abusive old boyfriend, and spent the rest of the night tending to Mettaton's bruises, holding him and listening as he poured his broken heart out. And Kitten had been one of the first to take Blue under her wing when he joined the business as Mettaton's partner. It was thanks to her, G, and Mettaton that Blue quickly became a Don respected not for power or diplomacy, but for how well he treated his people.

Blue soon returned, his innocent and wide blue eyes taking in the scene of Kitten leaning on G while Mettaton teased them. "Sorry about that," he said in his usual quiet tone.

"Who was on the phone, darling?" Mettaton asked, motioning him over to rejoin the poker game. He ruffled Blue's hair lovingly as the younger man sat down.

"Ren…" Blue murmured shyly, blushing slightly when Mettaton's smile grew wider.

"Oho, what did she need you for so late in the evening?"

"Well, um... She wanted to ask me something..."

"Not Ren Styles?" G asked as Mettaton began practically vibrating with excitement as Blue turned a deeper shade of red.

"Of course Ren Styles," Mettaton nodded, hugging Blue tightly to his side. "So... what'd she say?"

"She asked if I could… if I could join her for a set at Emberwater. And… afterward, maybe…"

"She asked you first?" Mettaton gasped. "Little Ren got up the courage to ask my Blue on a date?"

"Well, kinda… Um… Not in those words. She couldn't even finish the sentence. I-I think she was scared to ask, so… I asked her if I could make dinner for her."

"Yes! Finally!" Mettaton laughed, making Blue chuckle nervously. "Tell me she said yes!"

"She's coming to my house tomorrow." Mettaton pulled Blue in even tighter and kissed his cheek, leaving a black lipstick print and making his cousin smile brightly. Well, it was bright for Blue, who was incredibly understated in most ways. To anyone else, it was a comfortable little grin. Kitten and G watched all of this with clear amusement, and Kitten reached across to touch Blue's hand. "I'm a little nervous," Blue added quietly, looking to Kitten's kind little smile.

"Don't be afraid," Kitten encouraged. "It's just Ren. If she wants to have dinner with you, it's because she likes the everyday Blue. You don't need to worry about being anything else. You'll already impress her enough with your cooking. And you both know how shy the other is. I'm sure she's just as nervous."

"Thanks, Kate," Blue nodded, leaning into his cousin's side and letting him fuss and celebrate all he liked. He was just glad his cousin and their friends approved.


	30. Lay On Pt27

G was getting anxious. Kitten had been gone a long time, so long that the storm they'd hoped to beat had rolled in. With each slow rumble of thunder, G glanced back to the door in the distance. They had been short on experienced runners and so they went to make a deal with a dangerous smuggler themselves. Both of them had started out on the bottom doing this sort of job and quickly rose above it, but they'd never forgotten the finer points of dealing with the rough and bloodthirsty bootleggers and smugglers. Though they had constant suppliers, they needed to reach out further for rarer and more valuable alcohols, especially good wine.

Kitten, being better at haggling and the far more poker-faced of the pair, had gone in instead of G, though she'd been allowed to bring Wolfe as their supplier had brought his own guard as well. It'd already been twenty minutes- far too long for how Kitten usually worked. G was ready for the crack of a gun to sound between lightning strikes. Some of those booms sounded like gunfire, and G would've leapt out of the car if not for the flashes right beforehand.

"Boss," Grey's voice made G start and he looked at his old friend in the driver's seat. "Your knuckles are white." G let go of the dashboard at that, forcing himself to sit back with a deep breath.

"It's been too long," G murmured, and Grey nodded in return.

"Agreed. Kate said twenty minutes…" The two shared a glance and each opened their doors, stepping out of the Auburn. Grey pulled his shotgun from its holster behind the seat, and G drew his brand new twin Core .45s that had replaced his old Colts, courtesy of Gaster. These were heavier, longer, and far more powerful, but the grips came customized to mimic the feel of the old guns.

G knew not to go charging in guns blazing, so as they approached the door, G paused and called, "Wade! Time's up, make your deal and get going!" There was no answer, but G heard a scuffling. Before he could step closer to the door, it was slammed open and a tall, dark-skinned man with a shaved head and full beard came stumbling out, tripping over his own feet and scrambling to get away.

"She's fucking crazy!" The man yelped, jumping up only to be thrown to the ground again by a shove from Grey. Grey planted a foot on the smuggler's chest and both he and G watched as Kitten emerged, rolling up a sleeve while her other hand held a bloodied crowbar.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Kitten murmured, giving Grey a gentle push away before placing her own foot on the smuggler's stomach.

"Whoa, whoa," G took her arm as she raised the crowbar. "Kitten, what the hell happened? Where's Wolfe?"

"Inside cleaning up our mess. He'll have to drive their truck back with the wine. Now…" But G didn't let go, taking the crowbar from her hand.

"You didn't answer my first question…" He muttered, the man below them watching in terrified, frozen silence as Kitten calmly straightened her vest and wiped a speck of blood from her cheek. G tucked away his twin Cores as she spoke.

"These two idiots have spent the last half-hour staring at me like dogs at a steak. And then they decided to hit Wolfe in the head and grab me. Long story short, they didn't hit him hard enough, and I found a crowbar."

"Ah," G nodded calmly. "Carry on, sweetheart." He let Kitten take the crowbar back and he stepped away with Grey. G reached into his jacket out of habit for his cigarettes- a habit he'd mostly broken but occasionally slipped up in- but remembered he hadn't bought any. It was better to keep them away so not to tempt himself. Instead, he pulled out a pack of gum, offering a piece to Grey.

"No! No, please! I swear I'll never touch another woman again! I swear!" They heard the man plead and cry

"No you won't," G could've shivered at the dead calm in Kitten's voice, but he didn't flinch at the awful sound of metal cracking bone and crushing tissue. It only took one strike to the head to kill the man, and one more to stop the twitching. "Ugh, gross…" Kitten sighed, seeing bits of blood and brain matter had splattered onto her leather shoe. She pulled out her small pocket knife and cut off a piece of the smuggler's jacket, using it to wipe the leather clean.

Wolfe soon emerged, a hand up to his temple and a trickle of blood coming down his arm and face. "Sorry we took so long, boss," he muttered, and Kate stepped up to him to take his arm.

"Let me see," Kate murmured, G and Grey turning to watch as she pulled Wolfe's hand away and inspected the gash in the side of his head, one hand gently brushing aside his short hair while the other rested on his cheek to hold him still. "That's going to need stitches."

"I'm fine-"

"Shut up and get in the car. Grey," Kate turned, placing a hand on Wolfe's back. "Take the Auburn, get your brother to the hospital, ask for the usual doctor. G and I will take the wine back."

"Yes ma'am," Grey nodded, guiding his brother to the passenger side of the Auburn and making sure he didn't hit his head. Once the brothers were off and the Auburn left nothing but a dusty trail behind, Kate stepped up to G and kissed him.

"The truck's out back. You drive." She pressed a set of keys into his hand and walked back into the run-down shack they'd met their suppliers in. G couldn't help a little smirk. One reason he'd always adored Kitten was for her cool attitude even when things went wrong. It was almost comical sometimes, watching their enemies panic as Kitten simply waited for the right moment and smoothly put them all down.

As G followed, he had to step over the body of the other smuggler. Like his partner, his head was caved in, but so were half his ribs. That was all Kitten's work. She was practically a master with a blunt weapon, almost an artist in how quickly and efficiently she could incapacitate or kill. Kate Frisk was a woman of lean and somewhat athletic stature, a touch on the petite side, but she could hit like a truck.

When they came out the back door, G spotted an old rusty pickup with a pallet of crates strapped down in the bed. "Huh. Typical hillbilly rust-bucket. You'd think they'd buy better vehicles with all the money they make."

"They spend it all on women, booze, smoking and gambling. Just like you," Kitten said with the tiniest smirk back at her partner.

"Hey, now, I only spend my money on one woman and I don't smoke anymore," G reminded her. "And I never play high-stakes either. I have bills to pay."

"Why do you spend money on me anyway?" Kitten asked as they both got into the truck after kicking trash out from the floorboards. "You never let me buy dinner or drinks."

"Because I'm old-fashioned and horribly sexist," G answered calmly. He turned the key in the ignition and couldn't help wincing at the screech as the engine puttered to life. It probably hadn't seen proper maintenance in its entire life.

"I'm buying dinner tonight." Kitten reached over to take him by the chin before he put the truck in gear, and she leaned in to kiss him once more. "Any objections?"

"Several," G murmured before returning her kiss, lifting a hand to her own as it touched his cheek.

"You can tell me all about them once we get back. You're already late for your meeting with Undyne."

"I'm not late-"

"You will be with this wreck." Kitten sat back in the seat, kicking her feet up on the dashboard. "You can switch it out for another car back at HQ and I'll have Morton get to work on it."

"I'd rather have my Auburn," G sighed, shifting the truck into reverse. It took some muscle to get the gears to move, but finally they started rolling backwards toward the dirt road beyond.

"I think Wolfe needed it more."

"Yeah, yeah. Anything for the boys." G smiled to himself at that, and soon they were in drive and on their way. The ride was silent, but that was fairly normal for the couple. They enjoyed banter, but small talk wasn't their forte and G understood well that Kitten was fairly introverted and liked her time to think.

It was just as they rolled into the back lot of Snowdin Family Headquarters that Kitten glanced over to G and asked softly, "Hey, Garrett. What do you say to being even later for that meeting?"

"In a good mood, are we?" G teased, shifting the truck into park after the brakes squeaked to a halt.

"It's a simple question," she sighed. Each stepped out of the truck and G handed Kitten the keys.

"Only if you keep Undyne off my back." G got Kitten's confirmation in the form of a quick kiss and they parted briefly once inside the warehouse. Kitten dropped the keys with one of their fleet mechanics with orders to get the truck in good working condition, while G stopped by the warehouse supervisor's office to let him know about the pallet in the truck bed. He was a bit slow in meeting Kitten at the elevator, arriving just in time to see it lift up. He grinned to himself, watching Kitten crook a finger at him behind the gate. He jogged off toward the stairs and managed to beat the slow elevator to the second floor. By the time the gate opened, he was standing in front of it waiting for his Kitten. G happily followed when she took him by his tie. He wrapped an arm around her waist when she paused to unlock her apartment door, distracting her with kisses pressed to her neck and shoulder.

"Garrett," she protested, though she tilted her head to expose more of her neck. "Not out here…"

"No one's going to see," he promised in a low rumble, his other arm reaching around her to pull her back against his chest. His lips found a sensitive spot under her ear and she let out a soft, breathy laugh, finally pushing the door open.

"Get in here, you stupid man," she grabbed his tie again and tugged him through, unable to help a rare little giggle when he pulled her close again and continued exploring what skin he could reach. He had to chuckle too, and nudged the door shut with his foot. When Kitten's fingers deftly unfastened his tie and vest, he grinned down at her.

"Right here? Scandalous, madame."

"Shush," she muttered, silencing him properly with a much more heated kiss while her fingers got rid of his dress shirt next. When it fell to the floor, he shrugged off his shoulder holsters and threw aside his undershirt, watching Kitten's fingers now explore his bare skin scars and all. He stumbled back when she suddenly pushed him, his back coming to rest against the door while his Kitten took her sweet time unfastening his belt. He soon had her jacket and vest off as well and her shirt half-unbuttoned, and that was finally when she grabbed his belt-loop and tugged him away toward the bedroom.

When G finally came jogging into the Echo café, he was still trying to fix his tie and collar. Kitten had gone before he could get her help to tie the damned thing. Finally he gave up on it, standing just inside the door. But before he could tuck it into a pocket, small hands came to stop him.

"Hi, Al," G chuckled warmly when the tiny blonde struggled to reach around his neck to place the tie. He leaned down for her, and once she had both ends of the tie, he kissed her forehead and laughed when a blush spread across her pale face. Even if Alphys was dedicated solely to Undyne, she'd blush at just about any show of affection. For G, who knew she'd once had a crush on him, it was particularly easy.

"Hi, Don," Alphys murmured, unsuccessfully trying to school her expression while expertly tying up the tie. Undyne was equally useless at it, so Alphys had been tying them for years. If Undyne had an important meeting before they'd gotten together, she'd rush to Alphys' house early in the morning just to get her tie fixed. It was also a great excuse to see the cute blonde, if only for a moment.

"Hey, what took you?" Undyne called from their booth, her arms draped over the back of the seat behind her. "You said noon. It's twenty after."

"We were delayed," G answered simply, looking down as Alphys smoothed his tie and straightened his vest. "Thank you, dear." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her back to the booth. Alphys slid in beside Undyne, straightening her simple blouse before Undyne let her arm rest around the smaller woman's shoulders. Undyne was in her usual dark suit that all the Peacemakers wore, with a black shirt and white tie.

"Delayed how?" Alphys asked softly, pushing her glasses back into place on the bridge of her nose.

"Do you want the honest answer or the PG answer?" G asked with an easygoing smile, making Alphys blush once more and Undyne burst out laughing.

"You must have a hard time keeping up, old man," Undyne teased before taking a sip of her tea.

"Well, it wasn't just Kitten. We were actually held up by a couple bootleggers, but she took care of them the typical Kate Frisk way." G looked up as a waitress approached. The staff knew him well, so she'd come with water and coffee already in hand for him.

"The usual, Mr. Skjal?" The waitress asked as she set the mug and glass down.

"Yes, thank you, Sarah." G watched her go before he looked back to Undyne to see her playing absently with a few strands of Alphys' short blonde hair, making the younger woman giggle almost inaudibly. "You two are adorable."

"Can it, Don," Undyne muttered with a smile to Alphys. "Just because Kate doesn't let you-"

"Oh, she does. Just not in front of anyone. At least, not when she's sober."

"I've never seen her even tipsy."

"The only other people she really lets see that are Blue and M, maybe Papyrus."

"I saw it once," Alphys murmured. "She gets even more demanding."

"That's her alright." G chuckled and sat back. "Now, Undyne. What did you drag me all the way out here for?"

"To kill you, obviously," Undyne leaned back as well. "These past years cultivating a trusting relationship have all been a ruse to get you to come out unprotected so Asgore can take over Snowdin. Duh. I even hired Al to assassinate you."

"Undyne…" Alphys muttered, glancing to G to see him still grinning calmly.

"You know I can't say no to Alphys. I'd probably let her do it with my own gun."

"Exactly," Undyne nodded. "But before we do that, Tori sent me with some new information for you."

"And you couldn't just bring it to Snowdin?" G raised an eyebrow.

"Nope. Al had the day off and I figured, hell, she likes you, so we'd make a date out of it and you could be the third wheel."

"How generous," G said dryly, making Undyne snort.

"Jesus Christ, you even sound like Kate now. She's got you trained."

"I prefer the term 'conditioned.' What do you have for me?"

"How do the exact coordinates to Russo's hideout sound?" Undyne smirked at the look of surprise on G's face. "Your dad already had a rough idea, but he wasn't sure. Tori took what little he had and pinpointed it. Russo's got a few decoy homes around the Ridge territory, but his real residence is this completely revamped farmhouse on the edge of Pinedale. He just moved there, and Tori's people have confirmed that's where he spends his nights Sunday through Wednesday. The other nights he spends with his family. But we all agreed we weren't going to mix up his kids- they're pretty young."

"Good. It's just Russo and his circle we want," G agreed as he stirred creamer into his coffee and a packet of sugar.

"Exactly. So my boys and I are working out a plan, and Tori's getting us as much patrol and movement information as she can from the area. Russo runs everything like he's in the military, so it's made him pretty efficient, but really predictable. Now that we've figured him out, we'll probably be able to fend off any attacks coming our way too. His boys can't stand up to guerilla tactics, while that's what my guys specialize in. We can take them apart no problem. It's just the snipers we're worried about."

"I've been worried about that too…" G murmured, taking a drink of his coffee. "He chooses the very best, and they can move independently of any plan or schedule he has, and he doesn't keep records of them so we can't track them easily. I would suggest contacting Decker, and bring Papyrus on board too. Decker's every bit as competent as Tori, and Papyrus may be young, but he's able as they come."

"We've been kinda avoiding taking on Pap," Undyne sighed. "I don't want the poor guy hurt again. He barely made it last time and he's only just gotten back to normal."

"I know," G shook his head. "And it's up to him whether he joins in. But if we don't use the resources we have, he'll end up in a gunfight anyway somewhere down the line and be hurt or killed regardless of our best intentions. Better to be proactive and give him the best possible circumstances now, than be at a disadvantage later when everyone's being picked off."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the same thing Al said earlier when we were talking to Tori," Undyne rolled her eyes. "Damn you sensible people and your logic."

"So you're becoming a member of New Home then, Alphys?" G asked with a little smile to the shy blonde, who quickly cast her gaze down to her lap.

"Well… Yes, but not really. I-I mean… Kind of but-"

"She's an honorary Peacemaker," Undyne stated proudly, reaching over to show G the Peacemaker pin on Alphy's handbag. "Not the gun-toting kind- though Gaster's making her a custom pistol just for safety- but the kind that patches the rest of us up when we get into trouble."

"Well, thank god for that. You lot needed a proper in-house doctor," G chuckled, watching Alphys situate her handbag again at her feet. "How does it feel to be a criminal, Al?"

"I haven't c-committed any crimes… A-and good doctors don't differentiate between criminals a-and innocents. A life is a life."

"But your fiancé is the best gun under the most powerful Don in the country."

"That's fine," Alphys cracked a little smile and turned red again as she murmured a little Undyne humor, "a-as long as she's cute, I don't care." G had to cover his mouth to avoid bursting out laughing as Undyne's cheeks turned a touch rosy and she glared at him, pulling Alphys a little closer against her side.

"Again, you two are adorable," G laughed, shaking his head while Alphys patted Undyne's hand to soothe her embarrassment. "And you deserve that, Undyne. You embarrass her all the time."

"I don't embarrass her…" Undyne grumbled. "I just… kinda speak my mind." The conversation remained light as their lunch was served and G eventually got Alphys talking about her own work looking after the Peacemakers and some other New Home members, and about wedding plans for herself and Undyne- or at least as close to a wedding as they could manage within the bounds of legality for the moment. By the time G parted from the pair, it was nearly two o'clock and he knew Kitten would be expecting him back before long.

After a final wave to Alphys and Undyne as they pulled away from the curb in Undyne's car, G turned toward the black car he'd borrowed from headquarters. While he was digging in his jacket for his keys, a figure approaching in his peripheral vision made him look up. He only saw a flash of a grin before an awful pain shot through his knee when a blunt strike landed in the side of it. His leg gave out and he staggered, barely catching himself against the side of the car. Another blow to a pressure point on his shoulder made an involuntary cry of pain escape his lips. But long hours spent training for self-defense made G's dominant hand immediately reach into his hidden shoulder holster, and he pushed himself back into his attacker, making the man stumble in surprise. All it took was one quick motion- he didn't even need to think about it- and the barrel of the gun was at the man's forehead. G saw blue eyes wide with sudden shock and fear, and then those eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. G hadn't even registered the crack of his gun, and he could only hear shattering glass and the screams of passersby in the very back of his consciousness, so powerful was the rush of adrenaline through his body.

G slowly leaned back against the car, taking a deep breath as people fled from the scene. He could only stare down at the dead man, watching blood pool on the concrete. He wasn't certain how much time passed before flashing lights approached and he was handcuffed and put into the back of a police car. All he could think about was the stranger's gun. A Magnum revolver, a smaller caliber of the same sort of gun Arnold Forde used- and a type of handgun only used by Townsends. It wasn't until G was being escorted to a cell that he realized he was in serious pain and he felt suddenly exhausted. As soon as the holding cell door was shut behind him, he quietly laid on the cheap cot provided and closed his eyes. Kitten was going to be furious.


End file.
